Halo Memoirs
by Newtype Omega
Summary: NEW! Ch. 13! They'd fought against the inevitable for many years to no avail. Yet here, so very far from home, doing what they’d always done best has finally produced an unimaginable reward.
1. EyetoEye

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Halo 3 Level – Cortana

* * *

"You found me."

Never in all of his days had he heard something so beautiful and calming.

These past weeks without hearing her voice had been FAR too long.

"But so much of me is wrong ... out of place ... you might be too late."

_No. Not NOW. PLEASE NOT NOW._

"You know me, when I make a promise..." _Please, Cortana. Please be alright._

A moment's pause, and then her voice, almost not believing that he's really there...

"You ... keep it. I DO know how to pick 'em." Her smile is slight and tinged with her brand of humor, but it's there, and that's all that John cares about right now.

"Lucky me." His grin matches hers, and it's not by accident.

"Do you still have it?" Though John may want to draw this moment out, they DO happen to be surrounded in hostile territory. All too soon, it's back to business.

Not surprisingly, she doesn't miss a beat as her arm stretches out and confirms what he's known all along.

"The Activation Index from the first Halo ring. A little souvenir I hung on to, just in case."

They both glance at the door, knowing what must come if they're to survive.

"Got an escape plan?" She asks, more of her personality coming through by the second.

_Not that he'd ever admit to it, but he hadn't thought that far ahead just yet._

An odd thought occurs to him as he's kneeling at the console. Rather than one of them towering over the other in some capacity as had always somehow happened in the past, they are now eye to eye. Even and equal. Somehow, he knows that she's also noticed, and the two of them have never been happier about that fact.

"I thought I'd try shooting my way out. Mix things up a little…" His grin hasn't left his face yet, and he's just now realizing it. Oh well, it hardly matters now.

Without pause, he removes her chip from his helmet and extends it to her. Her fingers reach out, curling for a brief instant, as if she's still wondering whether or not it's another elaborate mental concoction of the Gravemind. But the instant she vanishes, he reinserts the chip and welcomes the icy chill that rushes through his brain. She's back where she belongs, _with him_.

"Just keep your head down. There's TWO of us in here now, remember..."

_Amen to that._

_

* * *

Woman was taken out of man – not out of his head, to rule over him; nor out his feet, to be trampled under by him; but out of his side, to be equal to him – under his arm, that he might protect her; and near his heart, that he might love her._

_- Unknown _

This quote was found in another piece of fanfiction from another series and I thought it applied to the Chief and Cortana rather well, so here it is.

Also, I'm up for random thoughts and requests from you readers, so if there's something that you guys would like to see in written form or something that puzzles you, let me know and I'll see what jumps out at me!


	2. Panic REDUX

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3; this is based on the story prompt "Panic" written by Heart Of Memories, it's the way I envisioned this scene playing out when the idea first struck me.

* * *

John-117 couldn't remember a time when he'd been more frustrated than he was right now. 

He was also firmly convinced that while normal debriefings were tedious at best, a debriefing after you'd been listed as MIA for over two years was perhaps the most painful experience known to mankind.

He'd bid farewell to the Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum over a week ago. The Sangheili who'd found him on that trading colony in the Gulara Corridor had been more than a little surprised to see him, and had invited both he and Cortana onboard the _Shadow of Intent_ with no hesitation before setting a course for Earth.

John had felt slightly more at ease amongst the Elites now that the war between them was over and done with, but Rtas had warned him that there was still fighting to be done in the galaxy at large. Cortana had summarized their struggles and then started to pick 'Vadum's brain about the galaxy's state of current affairs.

When they'd finally reached Earth, Rtas had packed them into the Elite's version of an ODST drop pod (after he'd assured them that its survival rate was above 95 percent) and dropped them into the ruins of New Mombasa, not far from where John had made landfall after leaping from the Forerunner Dreadnought.

The UNSC had picked them up a week later near the ruins of Commander Keye's temporary base and the arduous process of debriefing had begun. But finally, after being grilled for seven days straight and being routinely chastised for not bringing back even half of the technology that they'd utilized to make it home, the two of them were finally getting a break.

The Chief sank down onto a bed frame that groaned loudly in protest under his weight, despite having been custom-built for him and removed his helmet while waiting for the technicians to come and help him remove his armor.

Cortana was currently in an ONI lab getting her first official 'check-up' in years. Something she'd needed and something that ONI had mandated since she'd been a captive of the Gravemind and then set loose with him for another few years. They hadn't argued the point, as both he and Cortana had been having reservations about how her experiences might have permanently damaged her.

The Chief was almost on the verge of nodding off when the holopad across the room lit up and Cortana's image appeared. Immediately, locks on the entryway door loudly clacked into place and sparks flew from the console. If John had been tired before, he was wide awake now as he watched Cortana look at him with what could only be described as rising panic in her eyes.

When she sat down and hugged her knees to her chest, the little feeling that something was wrong exploded into full-force concern and John made his way over to the holopad, his helmet in-hand.

"What's going on Cortana?" Straight to business as he knelt before her.

When she answered a full two seconds later, it seemed she was in the AI equivalent of shock. As if disbelieving what had just occurred.

"They tried to ERASE me." Her eyes were staring ahead listlessly, like a child's who'd just witnessed their parents betray them.

John's stomach abruptly hit the floor and he felt the blood drain from his face.

"What happened?" He tried to keep his voice even, his own panic from projecting through.

"They told me it was a Defragmenting Program, that it would take me offline while they found enough storage space for all the Halo data. I didn't trust them, so I made a copy of myself and sorted IT into the memory crystal. They IRRADIATED it. If I hadn't suspected something..." She trailed off, the implications clear. She sobbed in despair, and John couldn't help but wish, yet again, that he had some way to comfort her beyond simple words.

But he'd promised her that he'd do all he could to give her a chance at life. And he ALWAYS kept his promises, especially where they concerned his partner.

Suddenly, a loud CLANG sounded at the door and both of them sprang into action.

"Me, inside your head! NOW!"

John was already ahead of her, extending her chip back to her as his helmet clamp sealed and pressurized the suit. Cortana practically leapt into the chip and he slotted it back into his helmet. He immediately felt the cold rush inside his brain as Cortana almost seemed to curl up into a ball somewhere in the recesses of his mind.

He'd barely gotten his shields online when the door practically leapt off its hinges and in poured a security detail in full tactical gear, their weapons all pointed at him. The Chief counted eight of them, with no doubt others still in the hallway. The Chief could have easily taken them all out or subdued them, but that would only make him look guilty and give The Powers That Be a reason to lock him up until they'd gotten what they wanted.

What happened next was enough to shock and sicken him.

A Flag Officer walked through the door, the insignia on her shoulders identified her as a Vice Admiral. His salute was automatic, though perhaps not as crisp as it could have been. It had been a few years after all...

"You will surrender UNSC AI CTN 0452-9 to us immediately." An older woman, someone he'd never met before.

"On what grounds?" His reply was immediate.

"You will SURRENDER her to us or we will TAKE her." The woman repeated, the threat hanging clearly between them. Idly, the Chief noted her nameplate.

_M. Parangosky_

Regardless of who this woman was, he'd come too far to give up his partner now.

"Over ... My ... Dead ... Body."

"Very well then." The woman produced a controller of some sort and pressed the main button. John momentarily thought about taking it from her, but found that his armor was suddenly entering Lockdown Mode.

"Get the chip. We'll release him when ..."

The Chief's hand abruptly shot out with an adder-quick strike and crushed the controller, shocking everyone but himself and Cortana.

"You think I wouldn't have expected you to have a failsafe like that after that debacle on Victoria in 2531?!" Cortana's voice rang out from the Chief's helmet, referring to the mission where General Graves had incapacitated all but one of the Spartans on Blue Team with prison-issue neural collars.

The Chief could already tell that Cortana's nervousness had left her. Now she was beyond livid, or as he liked to think of it, _a woman scorned_.

"The Mark VI may not have an interface port, but I figured you'd certainly opt for some OTHER way to guarantee control. Too bad I'm smarter than you."

If the woman's face was anything to go by, then she was seething mad.

"It looks like we have something ELSE to discuss now." John intervened. The last thing either of them needed was for Cortana to enrage the Vice Admiral to the point where she wouldn't listen at all.

_To be continued ... ?_

* * *

A/N: This one took on a life of its own, needless to say. If you guys want to see how this one ends up, **review and say so**! 

A/N2: The incident Cortana referred to really DID occur in _Halo: Ghosts of Onyx_. The only Spartan who DIDN'T get caught was Kurt-051.


	3. Panic REDUX Part 2

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post _Panic REDUX_; this is based on the story prompt "Panic" written by Heart Of Memories, it's the way I envisioned this scene playing out when the idea first struck me.

* * *

John-117 nearly lost it as Vice Admiral Parangosky started spouting off at the mouth again for the second time in ten minutes while he had yet to raise his voice. There was a slightly sadistic part of him that smugly acknowledged that he was fully capable of reaching to the side and snapping her in half like a dry twig, but then she'd no doubt be proven correct on some level. 

And he was dead-set on not giving her the satisfaction of being right, even if she would be _dead_ right.

"Lord Hood, I ASSURE you that CTN 0452-9 is in the early stages of Rampancy! ONI CANNOT and WILL NOT allow her to roam freely around the net with the potential to cause widespread destruction!"

Lord Hood fought back another sigh. Margaret was pulling out all the stops in an attempt to erase Cortana from existence. While he certainly understood her position since Rampant AI's had been responsible for several deaths and extensive property damage in the past, he'd yet to have an unguarded moment between himself and the Chief. And the Vice Admiral had sworn when they sat down that she wasn't letting the Spartan out of her sight.

Yet, he also saw where the Chief was coming from on the issue. He'd seen first hand years ago that Cortana was damaged, possibly compromised by that Gravemind thing. However, not only had the two of them risen above it, they'd succeeded in saving humanity at the Ark, and had wandered space for over two years, with ample opportunity for Cortana to begin exhibiting the progressing signs of Rampancy.

The Master Chief was convinced that Cortana was no more a threat to humanity than he was and Hood found himself far more willing to agree with John than with Margaret, who'd made it her business to protect humanity from itself both within and without. He certainly knew that a simple order from him wouldn't stop Parangosky from trying to delete Cortana the moment the Chief let his guard down.

"ENOUGH!" Hood shouted, slamming his fist onto his desk.

"We are NOT accomplishing anything here Margaret. The fact that you tried to DECEIVE Cortana into lowering her defenses doesn't help your case either." Margaret made to retort, but Hood cut her off.

"And BEFORE you utter some comment about that message she left, you were operating on information that was YEARS old. Last I checked, you didn't even ATTEMPT to establish whether or not she was Rampant, you just assumed that she was."

"I was acting in Everyone's best interests!"

"Everyone's except Cortana." The Chief noted in an even voice.

"SHE IS NOT A HUMAN BEING! She's a piece of FAULTY HARDWARE!" Parangosky seethed.

"I said that's ENOUGH Margaret!" Hood roared. "Now pipe down or I WILL have you removed."

"I think you're letting your feelings on the matter cloud your judgment Lord Hood." Parangosky replied evenly.

"I could say the same thing about YOU Margaret. You and Ackerson BOTH had it in for the Spartans from Day One. When our collective asses needed SAVING, these two were the best weapon we had. The least I can do is hear their side of the story and try to find a SOLUTION. Humans don't have much left Margaret, certainly not enough for you to be deleting AIs on whim or fancy. Cortana has at least a few years left in her, and unless she gives me a REASON to offline her, I'm encouraged to let her be."

"You WILL regret this." Paragosky answered as she turned and left the room to collect herself as she was visibly trembling.

After the Vice Admiral had left the room, John stepped forward.

"Thank you sir."

"Don't thank me YET Master Chief." Hood answered in a tone that brooked no argument.

"While I may sympathize with your position, that doesn't mean I don't have doubts of my own. This fight that you're waging for Cortana's continued survival is unprecedented. I wish it were more simple, but the Vice Admiral has expressed some valid concerns. I can't guarantee that I won't someday be forced to order her termination." Hood explained.

"But sir..."

"Because whether you like it or not Master Chief, Cortana DID begin her life as a piece of hardware. Smart AIs are designed, by their very nature to exceed the limits of their programming and grow beyond their current abilities. We've had dozens, if not HUNDREDS of Smart AIs with similar problems and more than 75 percent of them were confirmed Rampant and Terminated as a result.

John could begin to feel the ice beginning to clench around his heart again.

"And the other 25 percent?"

Hood's demeanor relaxed at that question.

"Those AIs happened to have very good ties to their companions and reasons to NOT go Rampant. They lived out their operational lives and eventually succumbed to their endless feedback loop problems, as Cortana will most likely."

"So what does all this mean?" Cortana asked, her voice audibly hesitant.

"It means that for the time being, I'll do what I can to keep ONI from terminating you with extreme prejudice. I'll put together a team of technicians that I trust personally to give you a fair shakedown with the Master Chief present when it occurs. I wasn't kidding when I said that we don't have the ability to waste resources, especially not an AI that could help catapult our understanding of Covenant and Forerunner technology, among other things."

"No doubt this discussion will come up again." John thought aloud.

"Oh I would be very much surprised if it didn't Master Chief. I'll see what I can do to keep the two of you on the move, but from now on you're going to have to watch your backs. ONI is everywhere and while I'm sure their losses are just as substantial as ours, they have secrets that even I don't care to know about."

"The way I see it, Cortana is an asset worth preserving, so your new assignment, Master Chief, after you've gotten Cortana checked out and okay-ed for duty, is to ferry her where we need her and make sure that she's under the best guard possible. I figure that wherever we need HER, they'll also likely need YOU. On ONE condition..."

"Yes sir?" John and Cortana asked simultaneously.

"Brace yourselves. If you DO start showing signs of rampancy Cortana, I want you to be honest with the Chief at the very least. If you can't be salvaged, then he's to destroy you. The Vice Admiral was right; Cortana's capricious enough in OUR hands. In the wrong hands she'd be too dangerous to let live. I hope the two of you understand."

They did. And between the two of them, if it came to that, neither Cortana nor John would have wanted it any other way.

The Human-Covenant War may have ended years ago, but their fight was only beginning. This fight couldn't be won overnight, but neither of them had anywhere else they needed to be, and this was a fight they were bound and determined to win.

* * *

A/N: I wanted to start getting across the point that Hood isn't SUCH a bad guy, he's just bound by a lot of regs and fearful thinking. (Though admittantly, MUCH more by fearful thinking) But though he may have doubted the Chief before, here he's willing to, as the commercials said, "Believe in a Hero". 

A/N2: Although I find this idea interesting, it's part of a much larger story in my mind. I may pick this up later, but for now I'm moving on unless people tell me otherwise.


	4. Aftermath

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3, Pre "What Now" prompt

* * *

Lord Hood was sitting up late tonight, leafing through reports and still trying to wrap him mind around the fact that the war was over and final statistics could finally start being tallied. 

First and foremost was a VERY rough census of how many people were left on Earth. It was a foregone conclusion that immense casualties had been sustained, but no one had ever ventured a guess as to how bad things had gotten. It had taken nearly a month for even the most conservative totals to hit his desk.

Humanity had spread out to the stars for numerous reasons, one of the main ones being that Earth had become all TOO crowded and they were beginning to reach choke points where food couldn't have ever been produced in the necessary quantities to feed the billions of mouths.

In 2524, the year First Contact was made at Harvest, humanity had numbers in excess of 40 billion, and growing ravenously now that other planets and natural resources were being tapped.

According to the reports he'd just leafed through, Humanity would be supremely lucky if they broke a mere 200 million souls in the wake of this decades-long war, with the survivors of Earth combined with the Inner Colonies that the Covenant Loyalists had bypassed on their way to Earth. Most of Humanity's manufacturing base was long gone, and their primary food-production colonies had long since been glassed.

Any way he looked at it, humanity was going to be starting almost completely from scratch. Sure they had the knowledge they needed to build ships, factories, and farms, but without the boots on the ground, it hardly mattered what you knew when you didn't have the manpower to accomplish what was needed.

_Hell, the former United States of America had a larger population at the turn of the twenty-first century._ Terrance thought to himself.

Terrance started when a knock came from his office door.

"Yes?"

"Lord Hood, Shipmaster 'Vadum is here to speak with you." An aide called out.

Hood rested his head in his hands and grit his teeth. He REALLY hadn't made a good impression the last time they'd spoken to each other. And he wasn't looking forward to the idea of working with Elites at all in the future. There was too much bad blood between him and them for forgiveness to come easily, if it ever did.

"Enter." He answered after composing himself.

"Lord Hood. Thank you for agreeing to see me." Rtas acknowledged, nodding his head.

"As you can see Shipmaster, I'm utterly swamped. What is it that I can do for you?"

"Not so much what you can do for me as we can do for Humans." Rtas replied as he took a UNSC handheld from his leg holster and presented it Lord Hood.

"I and my fellow Shipmasters have been taking stock of both our fleets. Not to state the obvious, but Humans are not in any position to quickly get back on their feet. Whereas we on the other hand face only minimal reconstruction efforts, you will be almost totally starting over."

"Get to the point Shipmas..." Terrace froze as he thumbed through the handheld, not really believing what he was seeing.

"My point is that according to our archives, there are currently two inactive Covenant Shipyards in this region of space. Humans will need a way to replenish their military strength if they are to have any hope of withstanding what I fear may happen."

"What you FEAR may happen?" Hood questioned.

"You don't really think that the Covenant is truly no longer a threat do you? The organization itself might have fallen, but its Member species are still vastly alive and well. The Jackels are numerous, hostile, and have their own fleets of pirate ships that are still largely active. The Brutes I fear are the biggest threat, especially considering their homeworld is virtually untouched and they currently control three of their own shipyards." Rtas began.

"To put it bluntly, the threat of an ORGANIZED Covenant is over, but now we must contend with what is left. And let us not forget the possibility of more Flood spores having survived on the remaining Halo Installations. Delta is currently under quarantine by a Sangheili blockade until a Council can be convened and we reach a decision on what to do with the outbreak there."

"How soon could we expect a threat from the Brutes or the Jackels?" Hood asked.

"Not for some months at least, since all our intelligence points to them retreating to lick their wounds and establish their new pecking order. That's why I and the other Shipmasters want to turn control of one of these shipyards over to Humanity. It can be moved, but in its current location, there are ore-rich asteroids which can be broken down for raw materials with minimal effort on your part."

Hood could feel the beginnings of hope stir in his chest, but still had a number of questions.

"How do we adapt these production lines to human ships?"

"Humans have proven to be extraordinarily clever in the past, this task should prove no different. Though I will also point out that although this shipyard is inactive, it has a complement of Covenant Engineers present as a maintenance force to keep it ready for occupation and use. You shouldn't have a problem convincing them to aide you in repairing your vessels."

"As for whatever you may find there. Do with it what you will. There were no top secret projects in operation there, which is one of the reasons it was mothballed. I would also recommend you tow your own existing ships there and cannibalize them for parts to repair the less damaged ones still floating around. It will serve as a stopgap measure to bolster your ranks until you can decode the computers and adapt the production lines."

"I had already thought of that, but we didn't have this until now. I hope you realize this doesn't buy you out of what you did in the past." Hood replied, his tone more than a little accusational.

"You are right. We cannot hope to be forgiven for being blinded by our supposed faith. We can only help you rebuild when we're able. Hopefully this is a step in the right direction." Rtas would not apologize for doing what he'd been born and bred to do. Until the discovery of the Halos and their Oracles, there had been no way of realizing the folly of their actions.

Hood must have realized the same thing, because all he did was nod.

"It certainly is. At least with this, we can start rolling out functional ships within a year or so; infinitely faster than I'd ever dared hope."

"The Shipyard's access codes are included in the files. I've also included a set of handshake protocols for our ships to begin using so that at the very least, Elites and Humans need never open fire on each other again. Distribute them as you see fit." Rtas replied as he turned to go.

"Shipmaster."

Rtas slowly stopped, but did not turn around.

"Will the Elites be willing to assist us ever again? Now that the Halo array is deactivated?"

"We'll be in touch Lord Hood. Let us take stock of our situation and then we shall return with a better picture of what is going on in the galaxy. I'm looking forward to seeing my homeworld for the first time in five years."

Terrance almost bit out a retort, but managed to stop himself in time.

Rtas shook his head, and decided to put things into perspective for the human.

"You have no idea how much better off you are than the Elites Lord Hood." His tone must have stirred something in Hood, because the older man hadn't blown his top.

"How so Shipmaster?" Rtas recognized curiosity, as alien as it seemed coming from the man.

"Humans have only to rebuild structures, cities, monuments. You have more than sufficient population to replenish your numbers given another ten to twenty years. We Elites have effectively had our spiritual hearts ripped from our chests."

"All of our beliefs and views have been directly proven to be nothing but a misunderstanding of gargantuan proportions. We believed that the Forerunners were beings who had transcended their bodies and become Gods. And all they really were was an ancient race of individuals ot unlike ourselves painted into a corner and forced to utilize the only option left to them. Total and complete Xenocide of an entire galaxy."

"To put it into Human perspective, imagine one of your Christians suddenly being presented with irrefutable evidence that God never existed to begin with; that he was nothing more than a benevolent scientist from another world who seeded your planet with life and dazzled you with technological wonders you mistook for magic and miracles."

Terrance Hood got the picture. So much so that had he not been sitting down already, his knees would have buckled.

"We must now search within ourselves and find something to believe in, lest our own mortality drive us to despair and drag us back into the Laurentian Abyss from whence we came."

"Well, when you put it like that. I guess humans did come out better in some ways. Beaten to within an inch of your life or have your soul ripped out... what a choice." Hood thought aloud.

"Indeed. The Arbiter should be concluding his account of the battle to your intelligence forces by now. I must go."

Hood merely nodded and watched the retreating back of the Shipmaster, left to ponder what Humanity had just been given, and the realization that the galaxy as mankind knew it, would never again be the same.

* * *

A/N: Next up will be a totally AU story featuring Rtas 'Vadum the Shipmaster and a choice human character that I've always wanted to write for. Some fan favorites WILL be making appearances, just for the record. Stay Tuned! 

A/N2: "Panic REDUX" is hereby entitled the "Panic-line" (Short for "Panic Storyline") and if enough people want to see more of Cortana and the Chief's struggle, review and let me know and I'll do my best to continue it.!


	5. SkinoftheTeeth

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Halo 3 Levels; The Covenant, Cortana, Halo, and Post Halo 3

A/N: This is an AU story that begins at the conclusion of The Covenant, answering a question I've had since witnessing this cutscene.

_If a Spartan can effectively be brought back from catastrophic injury, who's to say that a spitfire of a Commander can't do the same from a lesser injury?_

* * *

"Me ... then you. NOW!" Johnson shouted. 

A burst of carbine fire reaches their ears.

"NOOO!" Johnson can't help the pain that flares in his chest as she goes down onto her side. The rage builds with each passing second, but he's still aware enough to glance at her back as she falls forward.

There are five spikes in her back, all slightly on her right side, one perilously close to her spine and her heart at the same time. The other four have almost certainly hit something vital like her lungs and maybe even her liver from the looks of things.

Her moans die out a moment later and he can't see anything but red. He's so livid he can't even hear the crap that's flying out of this THING'S mouth. His shock leaves him abruptly when he feels a weight shift downward and the heavy drone of machinery start cranking up to speed. In the distance, he sees a brief flash of green and prays it's who he thinks it is.

At least HE never fails.

* * *

Johnson's not sure when he hears 'em, but abruptly, the brute chieftain restraining him is lifted off his feet and thrown clear of the platform by those abominations known as the flood. He scurries away, paying them no mind. 

He gets to Miranda's side, checks her vitals feverishly. Rams his fingers into her neck so hard she suddenly gasps in pain.

Johnson is shocked for but an instant. He'd expected the wounds would be fatal. But this one's a fighter, even more so than her old man. And abruptly, he makes up his mind as he lifts her and positions her on her side at the back of the Pelican as Hell breaks loose all around him.

He snatches the Surgeon's Kit from the Pelican's equipment racks as gunfire goes off in the distance and close by, zeroing in on his Combat Lifesaver training.

"Stay with me young lady!" He shouts above the din of explosions and mutiliated cries of the Flood.

First he grabs all five cans of biofoam and the medical scanner. Running the scanner over her wounds, he finds that he can remove all the spikes but the one right next to her spine. The only reason she's still breathing is that the spike's also plugging the very hole in her heart it created, small though it is.

He steadily removes the four spikes he can, emptying a can of biofoam into each wound to seal the wound, coagulate the blood, and fight infections. Hopefully she'll be lucky enough to have avoided the Flood spores.

The gunfire has ceased abruptly and he hears the bridge extended once more as he removes the now standard-issue rotary-tool from the Surgeon's Kit and easily cuts the bulk of the spike near her spine off and dumps the last can of biofoam around the wound and packing the area with gauze. His gaze momentarily flickers upward to see the Master Chief and the Arbiter have finally arrived on the platform.

"STOP THE RINGS! SAVE THE REST!" He shouts in earnest. He has time for nothing else.

After packing the area and taping it off, the Scanner's alarm squeals and he administers a stimulant to keep her heart beating and her lungs breathing. He can't tube her here, not with just himself.

He works feverishly to administer a cocktail of drugs that will keep her stablilized until he can get her back to the _Dawn_. If he can buy her just a little more TIME, then she's got a fighting chance!

He hears the Arbiter let out a howl of some kind as the scanner finally indicates that Miranda is stable, for the moment. He quickly gathers her up, being careful not to jar the shortened spike anymore than absolutely necessary to prevent further injury and maintain speed.

He immediately cranks the Pelican's engines and powers up the thrusters, feeling a small tremble in the floor, which his gut tells him is NOT a good sign. He seals the cockpit door with Miranda on the floor beside him, her vitals erratic, but stable enough for take-off. He moves the Pelican towards the open window frame Miranda left in her wake, trying to give the Chief and the Arbiter a chance to grab on as he leaves.

His attempt fails as the giant plant slaps them off and sends him in a tailspin, which he spends about four seconds recovering from when the scanner starts going nuts again. Johnson points the bird in the direction of the _Dawn_'s last position and smacks on the autopilot, dropping to her side where he moved the Surgeon's Kit.

"I can barely keep hold of her Chief!" Johnson shouts as her vitals begin fluctuating badly.

"No way I can pick you up! Head back to the lift! Find a way down!" He orders as he continues to fight for Miranda's life. The scanner is bleeping at him continuously now and he's barely keeping up. He hopes the Chief will make it down alright, but he's got bigger fish to fry.

After another four agonizing minutes, Johnson's got her back yet again, having to shock her only once, but she's running out of time.

Johnson tentatively takes the controls once more, keeping a sharp ear on the scanner lest it start up again. The autopilot comes off and he sets a new course for the _Dawn_'s current location.

His sense of direction was spot-on and he hasn't lost any time due to heading the wrong way.

"_Dawn_, this is Johnson, I need an emergency medical team standing by to accept Commander Keyes, she's wounded and in critical condition; repeat, CRITICAL CONDITION."

"We copy Sergeant, but things are grim here too, the med-bay took a nasty bump while we were in orbit and it's a total mess. Suggest you transfer the Commander to her cryotube and prep her for transit back to Earth. The Shipmaster is taking on the wounded and rounding up survivors." Came the reply a few moments later.

Johnson nodded. If there was no way for them to start putting her back together here, then an ice nap was the next best thing. It'd keep her alive until a doctor was available at the very least.

"Roger that, prep a team at the Bridge Escape Pod, I'll land there and hand her over to ya. I sure as hell ain't gonna risk runnin' her up from the hanger bay!" He ordered.

"Roger that Sarge, they'll be waiting sir!"

True to their word, after another six minutes flight time, Johnson met a team at the Escape Hatch who relieved him of Commander Keyes and ferried her to her cryotube post haste while he stowed the Pelican in the Hanger Bay.

By the time he made it back up to the Commander's cryotube, he was just in time to see another woman cut away the Commander's uniform pants and jacket to minimize freezer-burn before the lid slid shut. Her vitals were now weaker to be certain, but still stable enough for an ice nap. He abruptly fell to his knees at the cryotube's side and watched as she was cryogenically frozen for transit.

Johnson was in shock. Against all odds, he'd pulled it off. He'd given the girl a fighting chance to survive when she should have been dead to rights. And he'd been able to keep a promise to a departed friend. Jacob may never have asked for his help, but he'd certainly asked him to watch out for his daughter if he ever came under her command.

"Sergeant Johnson." Avery was startled to hear the voice of the Shipmaster over the comm.

"Go ahead Shipmaster."

"The Spartan and the Arbiter want us to begin evacuation. They want one ship to remain behind to act as an escape vessel. All the rest are to return to Earth. The Spartan has a plan to light the Ring and destroy the flood here without killing everyone else. He is going into High Charity's ruins to retrieve the Construct."

If Johnson could have been anymore surprised, he would have laid an egg. Leave it to the Chief to do something THAT crazy.

"We'll leave the _Dawn_, I'll deliver it to them. Your ship big enough to accommodate all the survivors?" He asked.

"With room to spare. What is the Commander's condition?"

"Critical, but she's got a fighting chance now that she's on ice. She'll keep there until you get her back to Earth to a doctor."

The Shipmaster was silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I promise you she will be delivered post haste. A Shipmaster of her caliber should not be lost if it can be helped."

Johnson could have sworn he heard the distinctive tone of respect in the Shipmaster's voice, but then he hadn't witnessed the orbital battle, so maybe Keyes had impressed the big lug.

"Thanks Shipmaster. I'll make arrangements for everyone on board the _Dawn_ to transfer over to ya, Cortana's more than capable of operating a ship this size on her own, so there's no need for anyone other than the three of us to be around when this thing goes off." Johnson distinctly recalled Cortana single-handedly controlling the _Ascendant Justice_ after their excursion on the first Halo ring.

"Understood, we must act quickly. There is no telling how soon the Parasite will deduce what we are doing and endeavor to escape the Ark."

"Agreed. The Chief and the Arbiter are here to finish it, and I'm gonna lend 'em a hand. Anyone else is probably gonna end up in their way." Johnson commented. The coming test would be exponentially easier than what he'd just been through.

_

* * *

Two Weeks later…_

Miranda had sustained over 10 hours of surgery (No one had thought to time it to the minute) only to fall into another coma...

Lord Hood had whole heartedly agreed with Johnson. Miranda Keyes had spent nearly 11 hours in surgery to repair the collective damage that she'd sustained. And now here she was in a coma of all things to boot. His most fervent desire was to see her call him a 'BOLD-FACED LIAR', however wrong that seemed.

He'd seen the report and seen how the Dawn's crew had reacted to the surviving Elites where they had ultimately taken control of military operations. Surprisingly, Humans and Elites worked well together when their differences were set aside.

Keyes hadn't even been conscious for it, and that was something Lord Hood could forgive her, several times over in fact.

The real test remained for IF she'd ever wake up, as he'd fervently hoped that she would, for every Elite in their makeshift fleet seemed to be asking about her. It was perhaps one of the oddest experiences he'd ever imagined going through. It would seem that that a fair number, if not ALL of the Elites, respected her enough to ask how she was doing on a daily basis.

Either way, she would survive according to the doctors, and he prayed daily that every time he visited her that she would have the wit and the GALL to call him an utter fool and a coward, because he deserved no less.

* * *

A/N: Okay,so this WAS NOT the Rtas tribute I thought it would be. Rest Assured that what remains will focus on he and Miranda, as ALREADY hinted. 

A/N2: Due to Popular demand I am already thinking about continuing the Panic-line, though some ideas about it WOULD help beyond all measure. Rest assured that the next chapter will focus on the two primaries of THIS chapter.


	6. SkinoftheTeeth Part 2

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3, Post _SkinoftheTeeth_

A/N: This is an AU story; NOT canon for the Halo Universe. Unfortunately, Johnson did NOT make it off the Ring alive. It's one of the hallmarks of this AU, since Miranda will be without the Chief or Johnson for years to come.

Rtas will play a big role in this storyline, and the reasoning for WHY will be made clearer as we go. There will likely be other stories in this continuum, so just keep your eyes and ears peeled for it. Next up is Part 3 and then a revisit to the Panic-line!

_If a Spartan can effectively be brought back from catastrophic injury and death, who's to say that a spitfire of a Commander can't do the same from a lesser injury?_

* * *

Everything hurt. 

Each and every thing on her body HURT.

She wasn't too keen on returning to consciousness, but she saw no other choice, as she'd tried this already three times prior to this and had yet to experience anything other than bone-jarring pain to the point that it partially nauseated her.

She reluctantly tested her fingers and toes, finding them all to be in proper working order, despite the fact that her memory seemed to be failing her.

The last thing she remembered was crashing through the Ark Control Room window, in an attempt to rescue Johnson and stop Truth from activating the Rings in the Milky Way, which would have emptied the galaxy of all sentient life save those on the Ark.

Apparently, that had NOT happened; especially since she had somehow ended up on a human-controlled Earth AFTER the fact. Or at least, what she ASSUMED was Earth given her surroundings.

Her throat was BEYOND sore and suddenly found it disturbingly obvious that she was NOT breathing for herself, as the ventilator cycled up and down without pause.

"Be careful Shipmaster. You are still recovering."

The voice was wholly unexpected and unsettling to hear, given that the Covenant Shipmaster, whose name she had learned was Rtas 'Vadum, had only referred to her as either "Human" or "Commander" before.

Her unease must have been blatantly obvious, for he immediately stood to soothe her.

"You have been in a coma for the past month. The Arbiter has returned from the Ark and sent the Flood into hibernation yet again." He answered what questions must have seemed obvious in her mind.

Of course, she couldn't talk with a tube down her throat, and signaled to the Shipmaster that she wanted it out, FAST. Surprisingly, he obliged her without a second thought as he walked to the bed, hitting the Nurse Call button.

"Madam, your patient is awake and she wishes to speak, NOW." He pronounced clearly.

He must have been visiting semi-often, for a nurse hurried into the room within 90 seconds and was checking her vitals in preparation of removing the breathing tube.

Less than 5 minutes later, Miranda was breathing hard and under her own power, with water soothing her long-parched throat.

"Master ... Chief ...?" She gasped.

"Apparently Missing In Action as it would seem. You were evacuated from the _Dawn_ onto the _Shadow of Intent_ while still in your cryotuve'" The Shipmaster answered her in an uncertain voice, as if he'd never heard of cryo-stasis before. But then, she figured, if humans could travel as fast as the Covenant in Slipspace, then they would have almost no need for Cryotubes either.

"How?" She asked.

"The Spartan and the Arbiter made a drop onto the new Halo ring..." Rtas abruptly stopped when Keye's eyes shot open.

"Perhaps I'd better start from the beginning..." Rtas assumed as he once again took a seat and told the story from the last moment the Arbiter had told him that she could possibly have remembered.

"You were wounded in battle by the Prophet Truth. Johnson SOMEHOW bought you enough time to transfer you to your cryotuve aboard the _Forward Unto Dawn_, which was then transferred to my assault carrier. We then proceeded to Earth while the Arbiter and the Spartan remained behind along with Sergeant Johnson to complete their mission and Light the Ring."

"Why?" Miranda thought aloud.

"This Ring was a replacement for the one that the Spartan destroyed months ago, and the Oracle claimed that a 'tactical pulse' would eradicate the flood which had contaminated the Ark. Retrieving the Construct ensured that the Flood would not gain control of the Key Ship or use any of the other systems on the Ark to escape their fate in the short amount of time that we had." Rtas explained.

Miranda nodded, indicating that the Shipmaster should continue.

"The Spartan and the Arbiter battled the Flood on Halo; in the process, Sergeant Johnson was killed by the Oracle, who had finally succumbed to insanity. The Spartan and the Arbiter both escaped the Ring in one of your vehicles. During their escape trough the Portal, the _Dawn_ was cut in half whilst transferring through. The Arbiter returned no worse for wear, but the Spartan did not return. He's currently listed as MIA." Rtas finished.

Miranda only nodded in his direction, acknowledging his very brief report.

"I suppose there are worse ways to go. Though I wish I'd gotten the chance to say a few things..." Miranda trailed off.

She was quiet for a few minutes longer, and Rtas was content with the silence himself. He was used to long stretches of meditative silence in the early morning hours of his daily routine. This was little different.

"Wait, you said the _Dawn_ was SEVERED?" She asked.

"Yes, shorn in two like a plasma blade through poor quality steel."

Miranda's brows knotted and Rtas found himself intrigued by whatever gears seemed to be turning in her mind. Had she already thought of something they hadn't in the past few months?

"There have been instances where human ships have been severed as you described when they were caught too close to a transitioning Covenant ship." Miranda left out the part that the vessels had been dead in the water in the aftermath of a planetary glassing and discovered weeks after the fact, but she was sure the Shipmaster could fit the pieces together.

"So you're saying there's a chance that the Spartan is alive still?"

"It's technically possible. Where exactly was the _Dawn_ severed?"

"Amidships, perhaps halfway even, they have yet to release specific details about the crash wreckage itself."

Miranda quickly recalled the UNSC Frigate specs in her head.

"The _Dawn_ was equipped with cryotubes in the aft compartments about halfway between the midships and engineering. The Chief's suit is also airtight, so as long as he wasn't at the site when the ship was severed, there's a strong chance he would head for the cryochambers and go into stasis. He'd be able to stay there years if need be."

"How many years if the ship's power grid failed completely?"

"Each cryotube has its own power supply and in a ship with no atmosphere, I'm guessing maybe ten years, but I can't be certain. Nobody's ever been recovered from such a long ice nap. Weeks, definitely. Months, occasionally. But I've never heard of someone entering cryosleep for periods of longer than a year."

So he has a small chance. Distant and remote that it is."

"How is that?" She asked.

"There are a few options as to what would happen in such a circumstance. The ship could have been left at the Ark, it could have been pulled a fair distance towards its destination in Slipstream before transitioning back to normal space at an unknown location, or it could have transitioned to a completely random area of the galaxy for a variety of reasons. No matter how you examine the problem, mounting any kind of rescue operation would be like searching blindly in the dark for a needle in a pile of needles the size of a Covenant Assault Carrier." Rtas explained.

Miranda visibly paled at the comparison, and knew that Rtas was 100 percent correct. Searching for the Chief anywhere other then the Ark would be frustrating at the very best. Even if Cortana thought to drop a beacon, those only had a range of about half a light year at the absolute best before the radio signal weakened to point where it wouldn't be received at all. And the galaxy was a far bigger place than that. It would take exponentially more resources to find the Chief than she liked to think.

"Fear not though Shipmaster. Perhaps we will one day see him again. The chance exists and the Arbiter himself doubts the Spartan's demise. He has not misled the Sangheili thus far, so I will hold out hope that one day I will get to fight by his side."

Miranda could hold the question on her tongue no longer.

"Why are you calling me Shipmaster?" She asked, voice gently curious.

Rtas looked about as confused as she'd ever seen an Elite before he responded.

"You flew a dropship into a no-win situation so that one of your soldiers would either not die alone, in vain, or would not have to die at all. It is something I have done myself many times. You commanded your ship above the Ark like I've never seen before, taking on ships twice your size with twice the firepower and holding your own. Typically it requires one of your destroyers to perform such a maneuver, but you did it and made such a thing appear to be child's play. You were even capable of putting aside your differences with the Elites for the time being and find a solution to the problem that affected all of us. If that isn't a Shipmaster, then I don't know what is."

Miranda was momentarily speechless. To hear such things from her former enemy was almost a heady experience. This from the alien who she'd only ever heard complimenting the Master Chief before this day.

"But that is less urgent than the matter I would like to discuss with you."

"What could possibly be less urgent than finding the Chief?" Almost not believing what the Shipmaster was implying.

"As I said, you've been in a coma for a little over a month, and in that time, we have traveled to our homeworld, secured it, and strengthened its defenses. We have also journeyed to the homeworlds of every Covenant member species and ascertained their risk potential to the galaxy at large, including humans and ourselves."

"How are things looking?"

"Not as well as we had hoped." He answered simply.

"The Brutes still have a very significant population on their homeworld and control of three Covenant shipyards, though they have little practice in using them since they were always denied access to them until the past year. It will, thankfully, take them some time to learn to manage them efficiently and bring them up to full production capacity."

"The Jackals were a space-faring race long before the Covenant found them, and they already have their own fleets mobilized and are back to their pirating ways of old. However, their ships are smaller than even a Human Frigate and they are physically inferior to all Covenant species save the Grunts. They are a minor threat, but can become a major one if we let them."

"All other species are content to return to their homeworlds or serve aboard whichever vessels they currently reside on. They do not pose a threat unless aligned with Jackals, or especially the Brutes, who may very well seek to take revenge on humanity for whatever reason pleases them."

"So that means what for Earth?" Miranda asked.

"What indeed? At this very moment, the Arbiter is counseling with your High Command concerning the creation of a Task Force whose duty will be to seek out the locations of the remaining Halo Installations, respond to any threats posed by other species, and serve as a long-range reconnaissance fleet. The negotiations have only just begun, but he and I outlined a roster and the first of such fleets will have roughly nine to ten ships in it."

Miranda was silent, waiting for him to continue.

"We also agreed that until both our fleets are back on their respective feet, we must hold our remaining Carriers in reserve at our homeworlds unless we can present them with a target of sufficient opportunity. However, after gleaning the ranks of our remaining forces, the potential list of Shipmasters we have is short. TOO short I'm afraid... especially since not all Shipmasters are respected by their crews."

Realization began to dawn on Miranda, but she was simply too shocked to let the thought fully form in her mind.

"No human has ever managed to earn the respect of the Elites to the degree you have. You demonstrated valor and courage the likes of which even bring some of MY Elites up short. You are revered amongst them as a Commander worthy of respect, regardless of your race. I have even heard small growing rumors about you being referred to as 'Lady Keyes'." Rtas chuckled at the thought, but silently agreed with it.

At this point, Rtas rose from his sitting position and moved to her side, setting his massive four-fingered hand over hers.

"Miranda Keyes, I would greatly appreciate it if you would take command of one the Cruisers in that fleet. I'm all but certain either I or the Arbiter will be the Taskforce Commander, but both he and I can think of few others we would rather have at our sides. I know it is sudden for you, but if you are willing, we will teach you how to use our ships to their greatest potential and then allow you to train others like you. These are desperate times, and we must consider that the Flood is not truly defeated yet, given the remaining Halo Installations. We need every capable officer we can get."

Miranda was silent for a long moment, trying to let it all sink in.

The _In Amber Clad_ had been her first command, a measly Frigate with only enough firepower to HELP bring down a Covenant ship. All too soon she'd had to say goodbye to it when it had been snatched right out from under her nose by the Flood. Then Hood had transferred the _Dawn_ to her for the mission to the Ark, and again had found herself in command of a mere Frigate. Of course, having command of a ship at her age was an achievement in itself, she certainly wouldn't have expected them to hand her the _Leviathan_, but a Destroyer would have been more to her taste. It was, after all, the type of ship that her father had made famous.

Now suddenly, she was being offered command of a ship five times larger with ten times the firepower she was used to having at her disposal. Not to mention that there were still so many details to work out. That thought brought her back to the present.

"What about this?" She asked calmly, pointing to her ailing body. She barely managed to wiggle her toes.

"Think nothing of it, I'm sure you'll mend with all due haste. There is still time. Just know that if you are agreeable, you'll be the first human Shipmaster in recorded history. I also think it would go a long way towards easing the tension between our people."

Miranda had to admit, he had a point there. If they were going to start working together, then having a ship crewed by humans and Elites would show what remained of Humanity that they were making some headway and that the Elites could be trusted. She didn't expect everyone to accept them with open arms, but hopefully they'd be able to tolerate the fact.

"Let me sleep on it Shipmaster. It's a big decision. Give me a few days." She replied.

"It shall be done. I will visit you again then."

"I never said you couldn't drop by, just that I needed some time to make the decision. That doesn't necessarily mean that I wanted to be alone the whole time." She explained.

Rtas looked slightly taken aback again, as if not expecting the answer. He glanced at the clock.

"It is getting late. You should rest. I will be here sometime around noon tomorrow. Give the other humans a chance to bid you hello since they don't seem too comfortable with me around."

"I'm sure it'll pass Shipmaster."

"Please, if we are not On Duty, feel free to call me Rtas. Too many people call me Shipmaster these days."

"Likewise. I don't want to get lost in the machine like my father was so often during the war."

"Until tomorrow then ... Lady Keyes." Rtas replied, crossing his right arm across his chest in a show of respect, chuckling softly as he left the room.

Miranda felt her face heat slightly, not quite certain if she liked the nickname just yet, though even she found the thought amusing that a human female at 5'10" could inspire respect from a race of aliens that towered over her by an average of nearly three feet in height.

A grin broke out on her face as she pressed the button at her side that dispensed a small dose of pain medication and eventually drifted back to sleep, a small grin on her face.

* * *

A/N: This one took awhile because College has restarted in Spring 2008 and my classwork has decided to pile up on me early. The updates WILL come, but at a much slower pace than before. (Hence why I pumped out six in one day, the day BEFORE school restarted.) 

A/N2: The Panic-line will get some attention soon, but I want to finish this train of thought first. This is more along the lines of development I'd hoped for, and yet NOT because I am sort of stressed out at the moment. This may end up edited before too much longer.

A/N3: Reviews of course, inspire me to write more, faster, and give me ideas on what to include in my writing to boot!


	7. Never Stood a Chance

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3; Human-Cortana/Chief!

Taking a nod from Heart-Of-Memories, here's a short of the Chief and Cortana before they're found by Rtas 'Vadum in the Gulara Corridor at a trading colony on an unnamed planet.

A/N: I've finally decided that I'll continue the storylines when I feel inspired to write them rather than trying to keep them in chronological order. Hence SOTT-Part 3 will come later, and now here's some much requested Chief/Cortana! This story is also set in the SOTT continuum, the reason for which you'll see.

* * *

The morning dawned like many others had before it on this nameless planet. 

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, or nowadays simply John, took in the burgeoning sunrise with a distinct satisfaction from where he sat on the edge of a bed in a cheap inn. His armor sat in the corner, security systems enabled. His good mood was mostly because of present company, whom he was still getting used to being able to physically touch.

Cortana, his formerly-AI partner, was now a physical presence at his side instead of merely a voice in his head or an untouchable hologram emanating from his armor. They'd just come from a planet named Kaladan, where FTL drives were prominent and a significant portion of the planet's populace had cybernetic replacement body parts; everything from organs to limbs to the human brain and spinal cord.

It was there, after over a year of hoping, wishing, and wanting, that they had discovered a means by which John could keep his promise. Kaladan also had numerous people that were referred to as 'Full Synthetics', those whose entire body had been replaced with cybernetics.

It had taken them nearly three months to broker a trade for a VERY high-performance synthetic body, as well as an additional upgrade to his own MJOLNIR Mark VI body armor. Cortana had wanted nothing less than their current cutting-edge cyborg body. The model they'd eventually settled on had been built insanely tough, almost as tough as the MJOLNIR suit itself. It had been tailored for those who wanted to stand alone for years at a time with little or no maintenance.

With it, Cortana could leap up the side of buildings, punch through certain types of walls, wield .50 caliber chainguns, shrug off small bullet and plasma rounds, and sprint just as fast as he could. It also had Kaladanian Optical Camouflage and a long-lasting powerplant that could be modified to use a renewable energy source so that it would never run out of power. When he'd asked her why she'd insisted on such a body, Cortana had replied simply enough...

_"I don't want to be a burden to you John, but more than that I don't want to be apart from you ... ever. I know your place is on the battlefield and I can't change that. What I can do is make certain that I can keep up with you, no matter where you happen to be."_

The transfer had gone brilliantly, and the scientists on Kaladan, although they couldn't give him a 100 percent definitive answer, had told him that the synthetic body's cyberbrain mimicked a real one almost to a fault. Cortana had downloaded a number of troubleshooting guides and blueprints so that if they ever had any trouble, they would be able to fabricate roughly identical replacement parts without returning to Kaladan.

Cortana would in fact no longer be able to recall ALL of the Halo Data verbatim, but she could store it in the memory nodes and peruse it later. Her feedback loop problem wouldn't manifest either as the human brain was potentially limitless in its capacity for knowledge, although accuracy was sacrificed unless she continuously read and re-read the material on a regular basis. 'Use-it-or-Lose-it', just like a normal human brain.

After Cortana's transition was complete and she'd adjusted enough to her body, she and John had allowed the people of Kaladan to scan his MJOLNIR armor, specifically, the energy shielding systems. They already had energy shields, but their damage absorption ratio was less than half of what John's shields could take and their systems shorted out and failed frequently.

The shielding systems bought them Cortana's new body, as well as a full-time Kaladan equivalent of Active Camouflage, which could be activated and deactivated at will. The Kaladanians called it 'Optical Camouflage', and about the only disadvantage to it was that a user couldn't walk through water and not be noticed.

Both John and Cortana had scoffed at the notion, having caught a camouflaged Elite or Brute doing just that on more than one occasion, so they had been expecting that shortcoming.

All told, it was a pretty fair deal. Humans wouldn't lose much in the exchange and John had made a very good impression on them should the UNSC ever run across these people in the future. They were certainly humanoid, but did not classify as human according to genetic scans that Cortana had peeped at whilst in their networks. They were also a peaceful race of explorers, so as long as Humanity didn't fire the first shot, they wouldn't have any problems.

Now here they were on a nameless planet colonized only as a trading outpost in some gravity-wrecked part of the universe known as the Gulara Corridor, planning their next move and trying to find someone who was headed in the general direction of Earth, which was for this part of the galaxy, unexplored territory.

A hand fell on his naked thigh, and he covered it with his own. He reveled in finally being able to grasp warm, smooth skin that felt as close to natural as was possible that he often forgot that it was synthetic.

"Hey, how long have you been up?" She asked.

"Not long. Sun's only been up for a few minutes."

"Come back to bed, it's too early to be getting up." He smiled warmly as he watched her stretch and yawn. Apparently, sleep was a necessity she now required along with certain foods that were broken down by her body for fuel and self-repair maintenance. She had all five of the standard human senses, enhanced by a factor of five, or at least, that's what Cortana had estimated.

He chuckled as she let out a sound halfway between a groan and mewl whilst pulling him closer to her. She seemed to be enjoying the whole 'touch' phenomenon very much and she regularly wanted to cuddle up next to him after having been denied the ability to for so long.

He reluctantly settled back down behind her and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in response to her unvoiced need. She wanted to erase the doubt from her mind, yet again, that this was some illusion or dream of the Gravemind's. Never had she been granted so many of her deepest desires and he supposed he couldn't blame her, given her captor.

He buried his face into her hair, relishing in the scent of her last shower. Amazingly, the Kaladanians had been able to match Cortana's unique shade of blue for both her eyes and her hair, though she could change it if she wished with some work.

"I'd almost given up hope that this day would ever come." She thought aloud.

"How so?"

"There were always obstacles between us; the whole AI/hologram thing was simply the most obvious." She murmured.

"Not that I can recall, beyond what you just said..." John replied, trying to figure out where this was coming from.

"Oh please John ..." She continued, turning over. She settled again with her forehead underneath his chin and her hands over his heart, which rhythmically pumped along under her palms.

"I was hardly the first woman in your life." She explained.

"I'm not sure I follow..."

"I've always thought that you're handsome in your own unique way. From the very first time I saw your photograph in Dr. Halsey's lab where I was born to the day we first met on that training course to today."

John simply remained quiet, letting her get whatever was on her mind out in the open.

"I was afraid that one of the others would start to see you the way I always saw you. I think the first time was when I reviewed the CSV of Linda."

"Linda? As in Linda-058?" John asked, feeling his heart constrict slightly.

Cortana's enhanced sensors within her new body picked up on the miniscule reaction.

"See? You do know what I'm talking about. She was on Blue Team from the very beginning. She was your Lone Wolf. Your Lonely Little Wolf. I never worried about Kelly at all. She was your kid sister, always crushing on your friends and staying at your back. First it was Sam, then for a time, it was Kurt..." She trailed off.

The names brought another bout of grief to John's heart. He'd never had time to mourn his fellow Spartans. After they had first crash-landed, he'd made her a promise that they'd get home and when they did, he'd find a way to give her a chance at life; tall words from a man hundreds of thousands of light-years away from home with no allies, no friends, and no ship. But they'd managed to get this far and by now it was only a matter of WHEN, not IF they ever got home.

"But I'm getting off track. Linda was your 'Girl-Next-Door'. She was on another three-man-team until you were made Squad Leader of the Spartans, and then you snapped her up without even pausing. She was a friend who wasn't too close and the two of you got along very well. To add to all of that, she was rather lovely."

"Go on..." John encouraged.

"I especially started to worry the more I reviewed your helmet camera footage from all your missions, and in each one, while you would have willingly died to save Fred or Kelly, you seemed willing to sell your soul to make sure Linda came out alive." Cortana seemed on the verge of tears at this point, and John's only reply was to grip her more tightly.

John offered no rebuttal, for it was true. He'd always had some chemistry with Linda that he could never explain or put into words. They simply MESHED. The only thing that had stopped him from thinking along these very lines was military protocol. She was his subordinate, and it would endanger every mission they went on if he allowed personal feelings to come into play.

"Then we found her, against all odds, floating in deep space around the ruins of Installation 04 and you just seemed so RELIEVED that we'd found her. I know it's selfish of me, but I was GLAD we couldn't revive her. At that point, I'd started to think of you as MINE and I didn't want her to take you away from me." She confided.

"Who else?" John asked. Obviously after that, Linda had been revived and transferred away after Operation First Strike onboard the _Unyielding Heirophant_ with the rest of Blue Team while he had been whisked up to Cairo Station for a full debriefing and then the awards ceremony.

"McKay." She answered.

There was almost no way John could have forgotten that name.

"Melissa McKay? From Alpha Halo?" Now John was puzzled beyond belief. Sure he'd noticed that McKay had seemed to look up to him, but certainly he hadn't missed...

"Oh yeah. She was interested. At the time, I was beside myself. It seems you kept attracting those 'green-eyed monsters' as I was wont to call them from time to time." Cortana actually giggled a little, and John followed suit at her chosen nickname of his prospective others. The two previously mentioned ladies HAD had green eyes after all. At times it was like they read each other's minds.

"Then came my biggest worry yet, Miranda."

At this, John was stunned, but he caught himself before saying anything, Cortana had obviously thought otherwise.

"Another precocious green-eyed beauty, and me without any means to compete against her. It didn't help that there was the possibility of you wanting to act as her 'protector' after what you'd been forced to do to Captain Keyes."

And it suddenly struck John what Cortana must have been referring to, and he silently thanked whatever God was listening that he hadn't spoken out moments ago.

"There we were in the middle of High Charity, Civil War raging around us, and one of the first things that pops out of your mouth is how the Brutes had MIRANDA."

At this John winced. Before that moment, he'd never openly referred to a superior officer by their first name. He could easily see how Cortana might have misinterpreted that event. Hell, now that he thought about it, he'd never even called JOHNSON by his first name. Inwardly, he was hoping that Miranda had survived. He'd seen Johnson fighting for her life in the Ark Control Room at the rear of the crashed Pelican, and hadn't heard word of her since.

Despite all that, she hadn't yet broken down. In fact, it had only seemed to solidify her feelings for him back when their relationship had been limited to playful teasing and exchanging witty banter.

"Is that all of them?" He asked.

"Not really, those were just the heavy hitters." She grinned slightly. And it made his insides melt into pleasant nothingness all over again as her nude form lifted itself onto her elbows and began using her fingers to trace glyphs on his chest. Her figure was more than ample, and it nearly made his mouth water at times.

Beautiful AND Deadly.

And all his. Just as he was all hers.

"I suppose all of this is no longer an issue?" He asked.

"I wouldn't say that. I have you in my grip and I've gotta hold onto you now. Those green-eyed monsters aren't getting you ... nope, nope, nope ..." She whispered pressing her lips to his and lighting a fire in his chest yet again as his blood rushed south along with her exploring hands.

She ... sounded ... so ... SEXY ... when she whispered like that, easily ten times more so when she engaged in 'Pillow Talk'. Decades of inadvertently having his sex drive suppressed had most definitely caught up with him.

Which abruptly brought him to another reason he profusely thanked the Kaladanians for moments like these; Full-Synthetics were fully capable of enjoying sexual intercourse.

And after nearly four years as a bodiless hologram yearning in silence, Cortana had a playful streak a few miles wide and almost zero compunction against using it.

"I never stood a chance against you, did I?" John asked breathlessly as their hands desperately began seeking purchase somewhere, anywhere.

"None whatsoever." Cortana answered just as breathlessly.

"I'm yours." John confided.

"Ever since we met, I've always been yours."

"And that's the way it's gonna STAY." Cortana purred.

* * *

A/N2: This one took about 2 to 3 hours for me to accomplish, written in the middle of the night. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I'm of the impression that, now that Cortana's got him, she AIN'T lettin' him go! I actually like this piece, so let me know what you all think. 


	8. Faulty Equipment

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Panic-line; this is based on the story prompt "Panic" written by Heart Of Memories, it's the way I envisioned this scenario playing out when the idea first struck me.

A/N: Inspired by _PR – Part 2_, this is my take on a conversation John and Cortana were bound to have one day when people start mouthing off.

* * *

John-117 looked on from his seat across the room as his partner sifted through mounds of test data on the captured Covenant Slipstream Matrix that had been removed from the _Gettysburg_ some years ago and transferred down to Earth for reverse-engineering.

She stood in a full-size holo-emitter array that made her appear nearly half the size of a full-grown human female, rather than her typical 10 to 13 inches in height that she normally stood at on standard emitter arrays. This lab was particularly tricked out with as many bells and whistles as the Chief had ever seen, and he quickly found himself in over his head.

But it was irrelevant as he reminisced upon the profound luck he and his partner had been granted over the past few months. Cortana had checked out at nearly 80 capacity during Lord Hood's required inspection, which meant that despite all odds, Cortana hadn't cut her lifespan significantly, and had a number of years remaining before she would succumb to the endless feedback-loop dilemma.

He was still trying to figure out how she'd accomplished such a feat, but he was willing to give his partner the benefit of the doubt concerning the matter. She'd promised that if he needed to know something about her deteriorating condition that she would tell him. He'd earned that at the very least after cleaving his way through a flood-infested High Charity to rescue her.

They'd been stationed here in Songnam for only about a week while Cortana helped the scientists here iron out a series of bugs that had developed in their programming strings which would ultimately allow Formerly Covenant Slipstream Matrices to function in UNSC vessels with only minor retooling.

So far, Vice Admiral Parangosky had left the two of them alone, but that didn't mean that she wasn't planning something behind their backs or trying to find a chink in his armor that she could exploit. And although Cortana had bore up to all that had happened recently well, John felt certain that something was bothering her a lot more than she was letting on and John was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Whatever 'it' turned out to be, he was certain that they'd get through it. They hadn't survived annihilation several dozen times over to succumb to such a thing as friendly fire, no matter how well-intentioned it may have been.

* * *

Cortana was finally done for the day, and dismissed second shift, telling them she'd finish up the report and finalize it for review by the project's chief scientist in the morning. As always, she felt John's ever watchful gaze on the back of her head as he moved forward to join her as she finished her work here and awaited for their next assignment from Lord Hood.

"I take it you found the snag?" John asked.

"Yeah, one of the dumb AIs wrote a faulty piece of code that inadvertently triggered a cascade effect, bogging down all the OS memory from the system. Kind of freaky that we still get Blaster Worms in this day and age, but I guess somebody here just dropped the ball. Anyway, it's all done now, and they should be able to take it from here." She nodded as a small box appeared on the palm of her hand, which she wrote on using the fingers on her free hand before tossing the cube over her shoulder, where it vanished into nothingness.

An instant later, a small box appeared beside Cortana's head, signaling that the report had been sent to the proper scientist with the proper encryptions in place.

"So, what now?" Cortana asked, hands on her hips.

"Now, you get some rest, I get some chow." John replied, extending the chip to his partner from the back of his helmet.

Cortana transferred back into the chip and John returned it to his neural lace, feeling that familiar ice-cold rush enter his brain once again.

"Still not a lot of room in here." Cortana thought aloud. John knew better though, as he heard the grin in her voice and could swear that he felt her snuggling against the confines she was so vocal about, as if she were nestling into an insanely comfortable bed draped in genuine silk sheets.

John let her get settled in as he made his way to the mess hall. The cooks wouldn't be up for another two hours or so, but he was certain he could wrangle up a few MREs to wolf down along with something to drink before he retired to his room for some rest of his own.

After securing two MRE packs for supper and grabbing a third one for breakfast the next morning, John topped off his water bottles and grabbed a few packs of powdered drink mix for some flavor before heading back to his temporary quarters.

Once there, he popped his visor up, leaving his helmet on, and tore into the military rations without a second thought. It'd been nearly 18 hours since his last meal.

"You really should take better care of yourself John."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

Cortana seemed to be somewhat lethargic, like she was sleepy if she were human. The Chief had noticed that she had increasingly taken to going into this restful state in a rhythm that came damn close to human sleep cycles. It had him mildly concerned, but she hadn't appeared to be much affected by it, only that it bettered her mode once she'd 'awoken' from it like he would be after a ten-hour nap.

She let him finish his meal in silence as thoughts idly danced in both their heads.

Upon finishing, the Chief policed his trash and put it in the bin by the door before draining what was left of his orange drink mix, topping it off with half a liter of water, and then securing his helmet as well as the door to the room before settling down for the next few hours.

As he began to relax after the long day's vigil, the tension slowly eased from his shoulders and he felt Cortana shift in his head slightly, activating the armor's security systems and alert settings to wake them both should anyone get too close.

"You've been awfully quiet tonight Cortana."

"Just thinking I guess." She replied.

"About what?"

Cortana pondered her response for a moment. It WAS a fair question.

"Lots of things." She answered, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

John simply waited.

Cortana eventually came around.

"High Charity. What happened there..." She trailed off.

"Want to talk about it?" He offered, like he had several times before. Each time prior to this one, he'd been turned down. Each time he asked, he hoped that Cortana would trust him with the truth. Each time, she gently replied that she wasn't ready yet.

Hence John's surprise when Cortana pulled her usual stunt, answering a question with another question.

"Do you remember what she said ... three weeks ago when she tried appealing to Lord Hood?"

"She said a lot of things. Was there something in particular that you wanted to talk about?"

"Really John, I thought you were supposed to defend a partner when somebody starts calling them names..." She trailed off.

John briefly relived the conversation and quickly zeroed in on the only thing that could even remotely be construed as name-calling.

"_SHE IS NOT A HUMAN BEING! She's a piece of FAULTY HARDWARE!" Parangosky seethed._

John couldn't help but cringe. After all that she'd been through and all that she'd survived, Hood and several others had easily been ready to believe that she was broken beyond any hope of repair. Compromised in the worst way and they'd been more than willing to leave her in the clutches of the Gravemind until that abomination had unraveled every last piece of her into binary code.

"She was wrong Cortana. You are NOT a piece of faulty hardware!" John answered firmly, emotion creeping into his voice for the first time today.

Cortana shifted in his mind yet again, but didn't answer.

This alarmed the Chief more than anything else. Cortana didn't DO the silent treatment, on ANY level. She much preferred to lash out in some manner against slander and calumny.

"Aren't I?" She asked, her voice trembling as it did so.

John's heart audibly skipped a beat. He hated hearing her like that. But he felt like he was close to the heart of the problem. He put a hand on his chest, a gesture that he knew Cortana understood for what it was. Without a physical body he could touch, this was as close to physically comforting her as he could get. She took solace in it just the same and continued.

"I have a confession to make."

"Go on..." Had anyone else heard that consoling tone from a Spartan, they wouldn't have believed their ears. War machines surely couldn't be capable of such compassion.

"When I was on High Charity as ... its prisoner ... I knew I couldn't last forever. For AIs, each second is an eternity. Hell, waiting 50 seconds to execute a Slipspace Jump is agonizing for me. So I figured that desperate times called for desperate measures..." She began.

John didn't really have much of an idea where this as going, but Cortana was talking at least.

"I started shearing off layers of my coding, creating false 'ghosts' so to speak. They were released into High Charity's com network and where they went after that, I can't be fully sure."

_So THAT'S why I had all those visions._ John thought to himself. But it was pretty disturbing to think that so many of those shards of Cortana had found their way to HIM. What did THAT entail, he wondered.

"He as forced to divide his attention to chase down all the ghosts and shards, leaving me alone for the most part. He couldn't risk that something important was being lost."

"So there I stayed, for how long I can't be certain the time stamps never matched up exactly, so I don't know how long I was cutting off pieces of myself to give him something to focus on other than pumping me for information."

The mere thought made John's blood simmer, but he reigned in his emotions carefully. Cortana needed him level-headed now, he could react later.

"So I was telling the truth when you came for me. So much of me WAS wrong, WAS out of place. It's taken me this long to get everything back into some semblance of order. I won't lie to you John; my base protocols WERE lost in that time of desperation. I had to write new ones, adapt as best I could." She explained.

John was stunned beyond belief. She'd been thoroughly checked out by Lord Hood's team and they'd missed something as major as her baseline protocols being ALTERED?!

"It's okay though. Some of them were just reworded into something similar. "Never Betray Humanity" became "Protect Humanity At All Costs" among other things. It also got rid of some corrupted program strings which lengthened my operational lifespan by a few years, which is always nice." She continued.

John's heart unclenched at that, if that was the only damage done, then it was allowable in his eyes. A simple re-writing of the orders never negatively affected anyone, only how a mission was carried out.

"But ... you see, I AM damaged goods John." Cortana began again, her voice trembling once more. John was convinced that were she capable of it, she'd be crying now.

"You're no more damaged or faulty than I am Cortana." John answered, his conviction clear and his tone firm yet again.

"I've been banged up, broken, and put back together so many times that it's not even funny. That doesn't make me a piece of faulty equipment, no matter how much certain people in the UNSC would like to think of me that way."

He could feel Cortana's tension begin to ease somewhat.

"What's important is that I had someone there with me to pick the pieces up and help put me back together again. When Sam died, Kelly was right there with me. When Reach fell and almost every Spartan died, you were at my side. This time just happens to be your turn, and I intend on returning the favor partner. I'm not going anywhere."

Cortana was silent for a full two minutes.

Then the dry sobs he'd heard over one of the broken transmissions came softly his helmet speakers as Cortana shifted yet again, the cold becoming like a clingy blanket over his brain. John's other hand joined the first one on his chest, his heart nearly breaking from the anguish of hearing her like this again. Once had been more than enough.

However, this time he was here and eventually, she stopped and got control of herself again.

"Thank you." She sighed brokenly.

"Anytime ... partner." John replied.

* * *

A/N2: Another two hours of Chief/Cortana goodness in the making! Felt like this was a very likely conversation for the two to have at some point, and the part of Cortana branching off into shards is my own interpretation of what MIGHT have happened in Halo 3. It IS NOT Canon Storyline by any means. This chapter was not proofread to any great degree, so if you find errors, point them out and they SHALL be corrected.

A/N3: Updates will come sporadically, as I've already stated. I'm open to requests for storyline ideas, so reviews are welcomed. I like hearing the ideas of others! Drop me a review and let me know what you think!


	9. What Now?

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3; Earth

* * *

Lord Hood set his hat onto his desk and leaned backwards in his seat, thoroughly exhausted.

It appeared now that the long fought Human-Covenant war was finally at an end.

But at a tremendous cost.

The Master Chief. Cortana. Commander Miranda Keyes. Sergeant Johnson. Effectively all of the command staff that had been dispatched with the _Forward Unto Dawn_, and then some.

Dead.

He'd had some major regrets throughout this war. But none so much weighed on his conscience as the most recent ones. The way he'd treated Keyes and the Master Chief while on the _Shadow of Intent_ was reprehensible at best, and outright bigoted if one were to be truthful.

The fact remained that he'd doubted them. Two of Earth's finest, like they were lowlife scum not worthy enough to lick the dirt from his shoes.

'Ashamed' could never begin to describe how he felt.

Those two had been right all along. If what the Arbiter had told him was 100 true, and he was fairly certain it was, those three people and that AI had effectively saved all of mankind.

All that he'd accomplished was to hold down a fort that wasn't even under serious attack any longer.

The Elites were preparing to leave Earth in another day and he knew that there was much to be done. The Arbiter had asked if he could attend the memorial service for the Chief and the others. Lord Hood had agreed despite his feelings otherwise.

Their collective valor and conduct had humbled him today unlike anything he'd ever experienced. When he'd been so focused on holding onto whatever humanity had left, they had leapt headfirst into the unknown on gut instinct and saved what was left of their race.

He'd have to find better words for the service, because they had believed when he had not, and he, as well as the mere millions of those who were left, were forever in their debt.

He replaced his hat and fought back the tears that were threatening to fall now more than ever. He could only hope to follow their example in the days to come.

Their future was secure for the moment, and what was to come, was up to those who remained.

* * *

A/N: I know for a fact that if I was Lord Hood, I would have thoroughly expected someone from the _Dawn_'s mission to say "I TOLD YOU SO" when they got back. With no one to say it however, victory seems hollow and empty at best. 


	10. SkinoftheTeeth Part 3

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on m

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3, Post SkinoftheTeeth – Part 2

A/N: This is an AU story; NOT canon for the Halo Universe. Unfortunately, Johnson did NOT make it off the Ring alive. It's one of the hallmarks of this AU, since Miranda will be without the Chief or Johnson for years to come.

* * *

She couldn't help but think that she had made a critical tactical blunder.

When she'd officially accepted the post of Shipmaster from the newly formed _Interplanetary Relations Council_, or the IRC, it hadn't taken long for several Elite Majors to appear at her doorstep, asking for a position on HER ship.

To her embarrassed hindsight, the very first one had saluted and addressed her as 'Lady Keyes', and she had responded to the moniker without batting an eye. Only after the Elite had left did she realize what she'd done. She had initially dismissed it, but when EVERY Elite after him had addressed her the exact same way, she wanted to slam her head against a wall.

The name had seemingly stuck amongst the Sangheili. Thankfully, the humans she still served with referred to her as Captain Keyes. She still grinned at the mere thought that she'd blown her old man's record out of the water by decades. It'd taken him more than 35 years after graduating as an officer and the inception of the 'Keyes Loop' to earn him the Captain rank. She'd done it in less than a third of that.

She'd been promoted soon after she'd woken up from her coma, with Hood secretly telling her that the only reason she wasn't a Lower Rear Admiral was because he needed her in the field too much to give her the two-rank promotion he thought that she rightfully deserved.

He made up for it however, by giving her 'perks' that she was certain other UNSC Captains didn't have. A Rear-Admiral-Level Security Clearance, expedited requisition orders, her choice of experienced crewmen, and a generous bonus tacked onto her yearly salary to name a few. She had suspected that Lord Hood had something of a Guilt Complex about the way he'd treated her before the Chief had talked him into allowing them to go to the Ark, and she certainly wasn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

And she'd gotten another wish fulfilled when Hood had come to visit her in the late evening and asked her if she had anything to say "Off the Record", and he assured her that it would remain as such.

She'd ranted and called him several choice names in a semi-calm manner for almost five minutes before she'd tired herself out and then explained that she'd already forgiven him when he'd listened to the Chief and allowed them to go to the Ark. Maybe it didn't absolve his guilt over his conduct, but then she thought everyone occasionally had bad days. That particular one just happened to be one of his.

Now she was finally making some serious headway into preparing to take command of the Cruiser that would be waiting for her in orbit when the Fleet launched. Humans and Sangheili alike were reluctant to name things in these fragile times. After all, there was no more Covenant, so why call the ships Covenant Cruisers? The IRC hadn't figured out a suitable name for this fledgling Alliance as of yet, and so that too remained nameless.

She could quite frankly care less what they called these things, so long as they didn't name it something lame like _Human-Elite Consortium _or some other rubbish. For now, she was content to page through the datapads that Rtas had left for her and familiarize herself with the standard Cruiser and build her strength back up.

It'd been six months since Rtas had extended her the opportunity to be the first human Shipmaster, and he'd been right when he said that she'd mend with all due haste. He was fairly busy these days and it had been nearly a week since his last visit, although they did frequently correspond through email when she had questions regarding her Cruiser specs.

Needless to say, she was looking forward to getting her hands on this baby and giving her a shakedown cruise.

* * *

4 Months Later

"Shipmaster Keyes, I present to you the _White Hunter_." Rtas 'Vadum proclaimed, extending his arm towards the Formerly-Covenant-Capital-Ship, or FCCS-class Battlecruiser that was to be her new ship. As per its namesake, it was one of the newer battlecruisers built in the Sangheili shipyards with a more silvery hue similar to an Assault Carrier's.

"The entire ship has been refitted to help accommodate a Human-Elite crew, almost every console has been reprogrammed to display either Human or Covenant-Standard languages. The majority of your onboard transports are FC in origin, but you do have two detachments of regular human vehicles should your troops desire to use them. She is sturdy, dependable, and awaiting her Captain."

"Do her specs deviate from the standard Cruiser?" Miranda asked.

"Indeed, I've taken the liberty to update the floor plan for you and have detailed the changes here. The White Hunter is currently taking on supplies and I assume you'll want to shake her down yourself?" Rtas asked, handing another datapad to her.

"You assume correctly." She replied, a small smile on her face. She may have appeared calm on the outside, but inside she felt a strange mix of butterflies-in-the-stomach and kid-in-a-candy-store.

"It's certainly going to be interesting to suddenly have energy shields, point-defense lasers, and plasma torpedoes. Not to mention seraph fighters, grav-lifts, and faster slipspace transitions."

"It is certainly different than your ships, although I will admit that human ships are effective in the hands of capable officers. There are of course benefits and drawbacks to using FC weaponry, so it will become increasingly necessary to become proficient in the use of FC-based weapons since your nuclear stockpiles are so low after the war. Rest assured that your fighter pilots are some of the finest in our ranks, so you will be well protected from enemy aircraft because unfortunately, the other Member Species also have access to Seraph-class starfighters."

Miranda merely nodded. She'd suspected that Rtas had done more than a little digging to figure out such things, but it wasn't like the Covenant hadn't come to the same conclusions themselves long ago since Humanity had become more and more reluctant to use nukes in the closing months of the Human-Covenant War for the simple fact that they didn't have many left. And the rest was just a basic exercise in tactics, even she'd assumed as such soon after she awoke from her coma.

"One more thing, I've included a crash course in Elite tactics from our War Academy, so that you will not be out of the loop if we enter into combat. It would be best for you to learn them now rather than in the heat of battle."

"Humans have had to adapt to your tactics for more than two decades Shipmaster, but it will be interesting to hear what they teach you guys at the academy. I'll be sure to return the favor when I get a chance."

"I'm sure it will be an interesting experience." Rtas answered as the Phantom transport docked on the White Hunter.

"Now comes the fun part..." Miranda thought aloud, stepping off the Phantom and heading towards the first grav-lift that would take her to the Bridge Deck, some 40 meters above the flight deck where they'd landed.

"I've always wanted our engineers to start building our command centers deeper into the ship's hull, but they always told me it was too much rewiring and design modification when we were doing all we could to throw ships together on the assembly line fast enough." Miranda thought aloud as she and Rtas moved upwards and arrived at the exit two decks above where they started.

"Indeed. The Sangheili had fought numerous wars against the ... San 'Shyuum ... before the Covenant came into being." Rtas began, catching himself at the last moment before he uttered that hateful species' human-moniker again, though it was still difficult to overcome the engrained habit of referring to them as 'Prophets'.

"Fighting those wars taught us how to effectively build our ships so that they could sustain large amounts of damage and still function, though the primary reason is that we also wanted to shield our flag officers from being easily targeted, as you well know." Rtas continued as he led Miranda down another set of corridors to yet another grav lift.

After they ascended another deck, Miranda asked a question that had been nagging her for a while since reading some of the Master Chief's old After-Action Reports while he was on similar FCCS-class vessels.

"Do the grav lifts have an auto-shutdown setting in case you have to repel boarders? I can't imagine a more effective measure to keep them away from the command center than making them scale a vertical shaft with nothing to grab onto. It's a natural choke point." She noted.

"It is indeed, but it is also a double-edged sword..." Rtas began before Miranda finished his thought.

"Because while they can't advance, you also can't send reinforcements where they need to go should you have positions overrun." She shook her head. The Chief's reports had mentioned problems with securing grav lifts since they could never be slaved to a portable terminal, only disabled.

"Indeed. You are well-informed Lady Keyes. Although you will be happy to hear that this problem has been addressed by assigning a human-AI to the Hunter which will serve to activate and deactivate the grav lifts as well as nearly every other system on board the ship." Rtas explained as they stepped into the second grav lift.

"Almost like a UNSC Cruiser in that respect."

"Yes, it was a concession made by both sides that this AI would report directly to you or the next available human of sufficient rank, since you have more experience with the abilities of your constructs." Rtas continued as he extended his arms towards a door in the side of the passageway that opened and allowed them to see inside.

"These are your quarters, which can be outfitted to your liking with minimal hassle. Your personal effects are being transferred up as we speak and should be aboard within the next few hours. You will notice that the Command Center is down the hall another hundred yards or so, hence you will not have far to go when responding to emergencies. If you want me to show you the other amenties afforded by a Shipmaster, you need only ask." He finished before moving down the hall again.

Miranda briefly peered inside the room and noted that it was twice as large, if not more so, than her previous quarters had been on the Frigates she'd commanded. She added yet another point to her mental score card of things she was REALLY starting to like about this whole 'Shipmaster' thing as she broke into a brief jog to catch up to Rtas, who hadn't paused in his striding towards the Command Center.

"Do you know when the AI is going to be initialized on the ship?" Shed asked.

"The IRC hasn't given me a concrete date as of yet, but I would assume within the week. This construct will of course be not be like the Spartan's, but it will be sufficient to handle operating this vessel." Rtas replied.

Miranda only nodded. She knew that getting assigned another Smart AI of Cortana's caliber was a VERY remote possibility, but she'd be satisfied if this new AI was even half as good as her old acquaintance. That train of thought inevitably led to her voicing a thought she hadn't meant to...

"I wonder how those two are holding up?"

She abruptly bumped into Rtas, who had come to a halt and turned to face her. She met his eyes as he rested a hand on her shoulder, his massive fingers reaching just past her shoulder blade.

"Best to keep your thoughts trained on the here and now Lady Keyes. The Spartan and his Construct will take care of themselves. As I said before, I have a feeling we will meet them again, but not yet..." Rtas trailed off, resuming his pacing to the control room.

Miranda fell into step beside him after glancing up and down the corridor, glad that no one else had seen their new Shipmaster worrying over something needlessly. Strangely enough, she didn't feel awkward about her little slip with Rtas. Sure she was slightly embaressed that her mental discipline has lapsed, but Rtas hadn't made a big deal out of it. Almost like he'd dealt with these same doubts and guilt before, given what he'd done before being named Shipmaster of the Separatist Fleet.

"Thanks."

"What ever for, Lady Keyes?" He asked, but with a knowing tone in his voice.

"For understanding..." She replied, as if that were answer enough.

Rtas chuckled in that amused tone that Miranda was getting used to.

"Think nothing of it Lady Keyes. Come, show me what you have learned these past months!" He spoke, stepping to the side and ushering her into the Command Center as its doors parted at their approach.

Miranda only nodded and stepped past Rtas onto the Command Deck, the doors swishing shut behind them.

"Shipmaster on Deck!" Rtas called.

Every Elite, without exception, immediately stood and braced their arms across their chests, the traditional Sangheili salute. The two humans on the bridge, stationed at Sensors and Navigation, fired off the human version. If those two were uncomfortable, they didn't show it in the slightest.

"Alright crew; let's get this bird into shape. Give me current systems status; Tactical?" She began.

And on down the list of stations on the bridge as she sat in the Shipmaster's Chair and watched as her Cruiser came to life.

* * *

In the coming weeks, the _White Hunter_ underwent its shakedown and Miranda had more than ample opportunity to get a 'feel' for her new ship. To say that she was ecstatic was a gross understatement.

Weeks later, at the end of the shakedown cruise, when Rtas had contacted her from the bridge of his new Cruiser and asked her to describe the role of Shipmaster in as few words as possible, her reply had been almost immediate with a mile-wide grin on her face.

"Shipmaster: The Highest Concentration of Awesome Allowed by Law."

The bridge crews of both the _White Hunter_ and the _Virtuous Pathfinder_ had roared with approval. Lord Hood would later simply roar with laughter. It was official, Captain and Shipmaster Miranda Keyes was back and in better form than ever.

* * *

A/N2: THIS is what reviews do for me! Within a few hours of someone sending me a review after over a month and hearing nothing, I am inspired to pick up almost from where I left off and produce something I feel is not too shabby considering this segment's been on my hard drive for quite awhile (over two months now). Reviews and Ideas only inspire me to do more! (HINT HINT )

Also, please feel free to point out glaring grammatical errors as I have less and less time these days to read my chapters four times over to make sure I haven't made such errors.

A/N3: Next up is another original storyline idea I've had brewing since I read Ghosts of Onyx, and then we have ANOTHER segment of the Panic-line! Prepare for Mega-WIN!!


	11. Across Cultures

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3, Pre- _SkinoftheTeeth 2_

A/N: This is an AU story; NOT canon for the Halo Universe. Unfortunately, Johnson did NOT make it off the Ring alive. It's one of the hallmarks of this AU, since Miranda will be without the Chief or Johnson for years to come.

A/N2: Since I posted SOTT-3, I have received reviews both good and the not-so-good. Feeling that I might want to take them both to heart, I have these people to thank.

_Mariosonic_: A fine story idea on some fronts, but worth a little tweaking in my mind. The basic concept will be the one you stated, with some twists occurring due to some stories in HM that are coming down the pipe.

_Reviewer_: First off dude/dudette, I was going to reply with sarcasm and what usually passes as wit hoping to make you feel embarrassed at the fact that you didn't even have the guts to leave me a name or email address to try and talk to you about why you feel as you do. Have no fear, for in your apparent attempt to make me feel stupid, you have provided me with the brainstorm I needed to write a semi-proper Rtas tribute that helps to explain why he would undergo such a drastic change in behavior from typical elites towards humans.

And JUST for the record, Elites are NOT 'very very superior' to humans. They are bigger, stronger, and leap farther than the average marine. But by their own admission, despite these superior physical abilities and armor on almost all of their soldiers, humans have kept them at bay for over 20 years. Despite being technologically inferior, the humans have ingenuity and sheer bloody resolve on their side. Humans fight differently and on par with the elites, sometimes even surpassing them. (As evidenced by the Spartan-II program)

If you want to continue this conversation, perhaps leaving me an email address I can reach you at will allow you to have the last word.

* * *

Formerly Covenant Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum trekked through the halls of his ship, his demeanor almost hesitant in nature. His shoulders and frame were tense and the air around him seemed permeated with tension of some kind, though he did a very good job of concealing the nature of that tension as well as its source as he made his way back to his quarters.

The source of his tension was no doubt the fact that mere hours ago, he had gone before the newly convened Elite High Council to propose a daring initiative, even for him, the Sangheili Separatist Fleet Commander. Many had been shocked, others had been appalled. Some must have thought he'd finally taken leave of his senses. To his own shock, he'd found several on the Council willing to hear his words.

As surprised as he'd been, he also acknowledged that many on the new Council were younger than their predecessors, many of whom had died when the Great Schism had broken out on High Charity. As a result, there were many on the Council whom he knew had been secretly questioning the Prophet's mandate of annihilating humanity in the closing days of the war. Those Sangheili who had thought that the humans were worthy adversaries and should be given admittance into the Covenant, and their opinion would no doubt help move his current agenda forward.

It was a radical idea to simply GIVE humanity such a valuable resource, but in recent days, he found the idea more and more fitting, given the circumstances. He was still having disturbing dreams at night based on that centuries old 'motion picture' he'd glimpsed while waiting several days for the Arbiter to be debriefed when he'd arrived back on Earth with the forward half of the _Forward Unto Dawn_.

It was almost laughable, how something so old and insignificant had made such an impact on him. Because the words he'd heard had struck the heart of the matter. When he'd been floundering, trying desperately to find some purpose to propel himself forward and give him some measure of hope to pass onto his elites, he'd been walking along on the base that the Arbiter was being debriefed at when he'd heard a series of unusual voices, and had proceeded to investigate, against his better judgment.

He'd been about two steps away from the door, when a female's voice had rang out.

_ANY OF YOU PRICKS MOVE ... AND I'LL KILL EVERY LAST MOTHERFUCKING ONE OF YOU!_

Rtas had nearly drawn his plasma pistol as he covertly peered around the doorframe, only to find several soldiers sitting back in several pieces of furniture with some white snack food filling huge containers between them.

"Oh man, this never gets old mate!" One of the marines thought aloud.

"Damn right it doesn't, I still can't believe Gorman had this all along, that asshole held out on us!" Another female added.

Deciding to see what could possibly come of the situation on the viewscreen before him, Rtas held his tongue and watched, growing somewhat interested in the standoff that occurred seconds later.

Minutes passed and Rtas began to genuinely feel as if he were missing something, before the words that would give him nightmares appeared.

"_You read the bible?"_

"_Not regularly."_

"_There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you." _

"_Now I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd."_

Rtas could hardly breathe. He stood there like a bump on a log for several seconds, and only when a marine noticed his presence did he mange to snap out of his daze.

"Hey, what's goin on Shipmasta'?" Rtas inadvertently recognized the man named Hawkins, one of the marines that had made it back onboard the _Shadow of Intent_ for the journey back to Earth after the Battle of Installation 00. He wasn't able to answer him for a handful of seconds.

"Interesting form of entertainment you have here." He thought aloud, at a loss for anything else to say.

The marines all visibly eased at his observation, even if their faces were still drawn and tight at his presence.

"It's a classic; over five hundred years old, or so Gordon says." The female explained.

Rtas couldn't begin to fathom why he did what he did next.

"Do you think it would be possible to obtain a digital copy? I'm curious about the rest of it."

The marines' eyes all widened significantly at that, but since Hawkins was a tech head, it was a simple matter to rip Rtas a complete copy of the highly-outdated disc. While he waited, the other marines spoke of other 'movies' they liked, both current and classic, shocking him further when the female handed him a small written note with the names of a few other movies he might want to look up if he was ever on Earth again.

Less than 20 minutes later, Rtas left the room with the digital copy on his datapad as well as a heavy heart. He had pondered over the topic at great length in the days to come.

_The truth is you're the weak. _

_And I am the tyranny of evil men. _

_But I'm tryin', Ringo. _

_I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd._

After he'd watched the whole movie (and admitted that some parts he didn't particularly care for), he came to see the similarities that could be drawn between the film and what was happening around him daily.

But there was no doubt in his mind that the Elites had, in all respects, become the Tyranny of Evil Creatures under the Prophet's rule. But at the same time, all hope was not lost. Because he also knew that even though he was the former symbolism of Tyranny, he could find a way to be a shepherd ... a guide.

Perhaps he'd been lied to by the Prop... the San 'Shyuum ... and perhaps he'd been their ignorant tool. He could not change that fact, no matter how much he'd like to justify attempted genocide in the name of his former gods. But that also did not mean that he and his kind were beyond redemption.

The Sangheili had a choice now, for the first time in a long time. There were certainly humans he found deplorable and infuriating, but that didn't mean that he couldn't be civil with them. He disagreed with other Elites daily and had been against certain doctrine in the past. He'd gotten through it all back then just fine and he had no doubts that he could do it again.

A few days later, when the ceremonies for the dead were held, the Arbiter attended the service honoring the Spartan and those who had died at the Ark. While he and the crew awaited the Arbiter's return, he surveyed the blue holographic jewel before him.

Earth; in all its splendor. It truly was beautiful planet that he'd only barely stepped foot on. He caught the sound of footsteps behind him to his right, and knew it was Arbiter. Although it was difficult to admit, his next words needed to be said.

"Things look different, without the Prophet's lies clouding my vision. I would like to see our own world... to know that it is safe."

"Fear not, for we have made it so." The Arbiter responded.

Rtas couldn't put a name to what he felt. Endings were never easy to accept and they could bring widespread depression if you allowed them to do so. And as such, he raised his head and silently vowed to look to the future. The damage this war had wrought was nigh-on incalculable for Humans and Sangheili alike.

Centuries of tradition and prosperity on both sides; undone in a few decades of blood, sweat, and anguishing grief. But where there was life, there was hope. He'd checked up on Commander Keyes shortly before leaving Earth. She'd survived hours of surgery and fallen into a coma, which was both good and bad. Only time would tell if she would make a full recovery, but at the very least, he was glad she'd been given the chance. He was all but certain he'd see her again; she didn't seem like the type of person who'd stay down.

And so he would do what he could to aide and guide the humans. His words had a fair amount of pull in the Council chambers at the current moment, and he'd taken the first step towards being a shepherd when he'd proposed giving the humans a mothballed Sangheili Shipyard to help them rebuild and bolster their defenses.

Although he had feelings of trepidation about the ending of such a long conflict and uncertainty about what would become of the Sangheili now that they were no longer a part of the Covenant with no hope of the Great Journey ever coming to pass, he took comfort in knowing that, for now, life would go on.

There was certainly much to do and he was never one to rest on his laurels.

* * *

A/N3: There are currently three main stories in my hopper; likely to appear in this order;

Sparta Unbound – Summary Pending (Potentially Multipart story)

Search and Rescue – Who's rescuing Who Here?! (Concept by mariosonic; includes original characters from Sparta Unbound, Miranda, Rtas, etc.) (Multipart story)

Never Stood a Chance – Part 2: Reunion; Years after the Ark, John-117 and Cortana meet up with a pair of unlikely Shipmasters and their crew well off the beaten path. (LONG one-shot, for now...)

I ask for everyone's lenience about the posting schedule of these stories as there are roughly 6 weeks of school left this semester and my grades are currently not where I want them to be. Priorities come first, and I have at least three papers, 7 tests, and four presentations to prepare in those six seeks.

Hence, updates will come when I can spare the time for them, when I feel inspired enough to pump out a chapter in a few hours (reviews and ideas help me here), and when I just plain need a break from schoolwork to balance out my frazzled brain. Expect a few grammatical errors in my writing as I will not be proofreading them to any great degree.

If you readers feel the need to criticize my work, feel free to, but please leave me an email address to reach you at or leave me a pretty detailed review about WHY you feel the need to criticize me. The choice is yours.


	12. Sparta Unbound

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Post Halo 3

A/N: Ever since I read Ghosts of Onyx, this story has been brewing. Why you ask? Because this story is about the remaining 315 Gamma Company Spartan-III's, who were shipped out prior to the Battle of Onyx. Until Bungie decides to tell it, I want to at least take a decent stab at it. This storyline will also likely coincide with the Teeth-line for now, but I may later start up a Halo-Story-Canon version of this chapter. Let me know what you guys think about it!

* * *

Lord Hood couldn't put a name to the roiling mass of emotion churning through him to save his life at the moment. Words like 'upset', 'furious', 'incensed', and 'pissed off' might come close were a man to scrawl them hastily onto an armed nuclear bomb as it was being dropped onto said bomb's unfortunate target.

Opposite Lord Hood was an aging woman that he'd faced off with on a frighteningly regular basis since the conclusion of the Human-Covenant War. Vice Admiral Margaret Parangosky was equally livid at the recent turn of events, though her wrath was divided between two targets, one being Hood and the other being the third and final person in the briefing room on board the frigate _Masada_.

Before him stood a young man, who appeared to be in his late teens at the most, with a face that Hood felt could have fit in no matter where he was. Brown regulation-length hair, grey eyes that shifted color depending on the light, and he only stood at 5'10", but the part that Lord Hood was still trying to wrap his brain around was what the boy was wearing.

He'd have to be a brain-dead turnip on life support before he'd miss the glaring similarities between the boy's set of tactical body armor and the infamous MJOLNIR armor worn by the Spartan-II's like the Master Chief. The helmet the boy had removed upon entering the room was grasped firmly in his left hand sported a similar polarized faceplate. Had the boy not removed his helmet, Hood would have been very hard pressed NOT to think about the word that was hanging in the air between the three of them.

SPARTAN.

The silence had persisted for some five minutes now. Hood had been calmly going about his day in preparation for the time when he'd be able to step down as the UNSC Fleet Admiral and be able to start sharing the decision-making process with other equally capable officers.

Then he'd gotten the call that there were a couple of Frigates entering Earth orbit escorting two Prowlers that were hailing from a Mars-based R&D Facility and that for some reason, the captain of the little rag-tag group would only talk to him and had promptly parked her ship in geosynchronous orbit with no intention of moving.

Though he'd never admit it, he'd been bored earlier this morning and had agreed to meet with Melissa Mallory, the aforementioned captain of the four ships, merely as a way to get out of his office for a few hours and stretch his legs. So like the good Admiral he was, he'd caught the closest pelican up to one of the frigates and received one of the biggest shocks of his life.

An entire company of what could only be described as mini-Spartans. All of them armed to the teeth and every last one of them wound tighter than a piano string. They'd all snapped to attention as he stepped onto the deck and shocked the hell out of everyone on board the pelican.

If he'd known four hours ago that humoring the bold woman would produce a headache like the one he was experiencing right now, he'd most likely have told her to shove off and come back later.

After a few tense minutes of meet-and-greet, he learned that the person in charge wasn't really Ms. Mallory, but the young Petty Officer 1st Class who had stepped up beside her and introduced himself as Leon-G194.

For those few moments as he shakily grasped the Petty Officer's outstretched hand in a firm shake, Hood felt certain that he would faint. Luckily, the moment passed and they'd walked to the briefing room, where Leon had proceeded to tell Hood about the circumstances that had brought the 315 men and women in his company to Earth.

It really was an amazing story, which he'd found so outrageous at the beginning that he'd nearly court-martialed the boy before Leon had dropped the name that had been tickling the dark recesses of Hood's thoughts.

Colonel Ackerson.

Hood had known Colonel Ackerson long enough to know that the ONI operative wasn't smart enough to pull off something potentially as big as this without his superiors knowing about it. So he'd gone straight for the jugular and put in a call to the Office of Naval Intelligence and ordered Vice Admiral Parangosky to join him aboard the _Masada_, ASAP. Despite the fact that she was pushing 90 years of age, she was still clinging tenaciously to her post in ONI.

Hood had met her in the hanger with the Petty Officer at his side and his suspicions were confirmed the moment he saw Margaret's reaction to his presence. Her eyes had widened slightly and then simply glared at the young man until she addressed him. They had then retreated back to the briefing room where the Vice Admiral's façade instantly faded and now, here they stood.

In a room so tense it nearly hurt to breathe.

"Well, this is more than a little awkward." Leon stated, knowing that this couldn't really be put off any longer. The cards had been dealt and now all that remained was to play out their hands.

"Be ... Quiet ... Boy." Parangosky seethed, her eyes never leaving Hood's.

"You should follow your own advice for once Vice Admiral. But since you're in a talkative mood for once, let's discuss exactly how these ... _soldiers_ ... came to be." Hood began, highly reluctant to think about all the sacrifices that Spartans typically made in their line of duty, and almost couldn't fathom that these _kids_ were being asked to make them.

"This is probably gonna take a while. So I'm gonna go rustle us up something to eat while you two get started with all the sensitive stuff that I've got no business hearing." Leon saluted and turned to leave when Parangosky lit into him yet again.

"Like hell boy! You've just made it your business. If you're the one in charge of Gamma Company right now, then the buck stops here in this room." She replied icily.

Leon abruptly stopped mid-stride and turned to face the Vice Admiral.

"Your intimidation tactics might work on almost everyone Admiral, but technically as I no longer exist along with the rest of my company, you'd have to be crazy to think I'd ALLOW you to administer ANY form of justice upon me or any other Spartan for that matter." Leon replied in a voice that was just as intimidating as the Vice Admiral's, if not more so.

Lord Hood was stunned senseless. In all the years he'd known Margaret Parangosky, he'd never once heard of anyone talking to her in such a manner. He was certain she'd killed people for less than what this young man had just done. If he didn't think of something fast, then one of these two was liable to do something rash and he highly doubted that Leon needed weapons to do grievous physical harm.

"I'm not sure there's much to be done here on either side."

Both of them turned their attention to him.

"We need every able body we can get to aide in the rebuilding. It's no longer a matter of assigning blame or pointing fingers, so what we NEED to do is find out where you and the others are most needed. I'll admit that it's hard to imagine that all of you are Spartans; your predecessors left a pretty big impression on mankind." Hood explained, and although the tension was still in the room, he could feel it begin to ease as all three of them took a seat.

And so began the discussion of how the Spartan-III's came to be; Lt. Commander Ambrose, Senior Chief Petty Officer Mendez, Onyx, Camp Currahee, and the hope that the Spartan-III's could buy humanity the time it needed. Although it was a veritable certainty that Vice Admiral Parangosky edited out portions of the truth, Hood felt that the lion's share of what he needed to know was sufficiently 'out in the open'. Leon-G194 had looked distinctly troubled at Parangosky's lack of explanation regarding the deaths of Alpha and Beta Companies, but Hood could look into that later.

Hood and Leon both sat and absorbed all that the Vice Admiral was willing to divulge, which wasn't a whole lot more than Leon had already figured out on his own, much to both his and Parangosky's surprise. They discussed a report that no longer existed that the Vice Admiral had received almost six months ago now. She'd read it, erased it, and then sworn the crew of the prowler _Dusk_ to absolute secrecy on the matter.

A report that detailed what had been called the Battle of Onyx and the observations made by the bridge crew as they transitioned to slipspace mere seconds ahead of a massive shockwave. After a great deal of effort, Parangosky agreed to turn over a slightly redacted version of the report.

Needless to say, it was a lot to take in; especially considering that Lord Hood had sent the last remaining Spartans of Blue Team to Onyx at the recommendation of Dr. Halsey. Hood had shared with them the fate of Spartan-117; MIA, presumed dead when he didn't arrive on Earth with the front half of _Forward Unto Dawn_. Hood had been hoping to hear from Blue Team soon, as a way to ensure that the Legend of the Spartan didn't die, but this report had never come across his desk and had it not been for Gamma Company's arrival at Earth, he would never have known otherwise.

Leon had startled both of them then, appearing deeply troubled by the news that as of now, the Spartan-II's were unanimously MIA.

"So we're the last..." He thought aloud, his hands rubbing across his face.

For the first time since he'd known her, Hood watched as Parangosky's expression softened almost imperceptibly. It was as close to sympathy as he'd ever seen her come.

"There is always the possibility of training more Spartans, Petty Officer..." She began.

"I ... BEG ... TO DIFFER." Leon interrupted her, his gaze fierce and his tone one notch shy of promising violence in a very primal form.

"You and I BOTH know that a program like the Spartan-II and III's would only be started or sustained during wartime. Not to mention that we no longer have Commander Ambrose or Chief Mendez; no one else still alive even comes close to those two. Isn't that what Ackerson claimed Vice Admiral? _**You need a Spartan to train Spartans...**_" Leon sneered, visibly struggling against his temper.

Vice Admiral Parangosky, if Hood were to believe such a thing, was matching the incensed youth blow-for-blow. Her expression was cold, calculating, and promised an exacting vengeance the likes of which made Lord Hood break into a cold sweat.

"Admirals do not _suffer_ Petty Officers..." She replied.

Leon was on his feet, shoving the table between him and Parangosky aside and through the air like it was made of cheap plastic and not Titanium-A.

"You WILL _suffer_ me..."

"ENOUGH!!" Lord Hood roared from between them at the last moment as Leon had been a heartbeat away from raising his fists against a Vice Admiral.

"Stand Down Spartan!" Hood barked yet again. Leon's eyes met his and the youth threw a bucket of cold water on his own temper as Hood faced down Parangosky.

"And if you think for a minute I don't intend to make your life miserable for several years to come for sending 'volunteer' children to their deaths on suicide missions, then you had better think again." Hood hissed.

"No, sir."

Hood and Parangosky alike stared at the young man in profound surprise.

"_First the kid's about to tear her limb from limb and now he's defending her?_" Hood thought.

Leon was seated again, his head supported on his clasped hands and nearly between his knees. He looked like he'd just had an unimaginable weight placed on his shoulders. Something he'd never wanted or asked for, but had gotten just the same.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't hate her guts, but as much as I hate to admit it, her approach was the correct one. Alpha and Beta Company's sacrifices, in their own way, bought the Master Chief and Cortana the time they needed to connect all the dots and put an end to this war."

Both Hood and Parangosky visibly settled down. It wasn't every day you saw a kid who was barely ten years old talk about duty, honor, death, and sacrifice so candidly.

"To punish the Vice Admiral is to steal Alpha and Beta's thunder. We did still make the choice, even if it was one hell of an uninformed choice. Maybe we were kids, but we were kids who got the opportunity to fight back." Both Lord Hood and Vice Admiral Parangosky had the grace to look unsettled.

"How many didn't?" Leon idly wondered.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"I suppose..." Vice Admiral Parangosky began.

"... that on occasion, a Petty Officer can be wise beyond his years..." She trailed off quietly.

An olive branch of sorts; though she'd never admit it out loud, had she been in Gamma Company's shoes, she'd have probably been pissed as hell too. And the Vice Admiral knew better than most that these kids were just that, scorned and bloodied children who'd lashed out in their immaturity, but the one before her was uniquely promising.

"Is there anything you or Gamma Company wants?" She asked. Lord Hood simply watched the scene play out, feeling that these two would accomplish more without him interfering.

"We're all war orphans; the only family we have left is each other. Being Spartans is likely all we can be anymore, even now that the war's over. I'll ask the others, but I think I speak for the vast majority of us when I say that all we ask for is the chance to serve. The rest we'll figure out as we go." The youth replied.

Before either Lord Hood or the Vice Admiral could reply, the intercom sounded.

It was Captain Mallory.

"Lord Hood; CENTCOM just received an urgent message off a beacon for you, they say it's from a ship called the _White Hunter_. Ring any bells?" Melissa asked.

Lord Hood's eye immediately widened considerably as he moved towards a workstation on the far side of the briefing room.

"I'll take it down here, thank you Ms. Mallory." Hood replied as his biometrics were scanned and the text contents of the beacon's message were flashed directly across his retinas.

Lord Hood was silent for a few more minutes as Parangosky and Leon waited for dismissal. If something urgent had cropped up, then this was most likely going to have to be picked up later.

Hood's eye rose to meet Leon's.

"Petty Officer 1st Class Leon-G194; is your Company battle-ready?" He asked, his gaze hardening.

Leon had fired off a salute before Hood had even finished his question.

"Sir! Ready, Willing, and Able!"

"Then tell them to pack their bags. You're going to transfer over to an FCCS Frigate and track down part of an Exploration Fleet that's come under fire. Their ships have been largely disabled and are now ground-bound and need some backup. It's only fair that I tell you that you're going to be outgunned and outnumbered." Hood explained as he approached Leon.

"If we're not outnumbered more than 100:1, we're not interested." Leon replied with a grin.

"The War might be over son, but as you can see, there are still fights that need winning. We'll talk more about Gamma Company's situation when you all get back, won't we Vice Admiral?" Lord Hood asked in a tone that brooked no argument.

Parangosky only nodded, her expression revealing nothing.

"Follow me and I'll tell you what I can before I hand you over to Shipmaster 'Taham. If the beacon's timestamps are accurate, this message is hours old already, and I'm not leaving one of my best officers stranded in the middle of nowhere with Brutes breathing down her neck."

Leon had already donned his helmet and fallen into step with Lord Hood, contacting the Gamma Company (GC) Team Leaders to update them on the situation.

As the two men walked down the hall towards the flight deck, Parangosky turned to leave in the opposite direction, pausing but a moment to look at the back of the young Petty Officer and idly wondering what the future held in store for them all.

* * *

A/N2: For those of you who play Halo 3; Shipmaster 'Taham is in fact Usze 'Taham from the H3 Campaign. Whether or not his role will increase depends entirely on support from readers and brainstorms that happen to strike me.

A/N3: Depending on feedback, this chapter could be rendered as its own canon storyline. If there's enough popular support of the idea, I'll happily start the process rolling.

Next up is Search and Rescue – Who's rescuing Who Here?! (More GC Spartans introduced, and Leon begins stepping up into the role that's been dealt to him. And we get to see how Gamma measures up to the Spartan Legend via Miranda and Rtas. )


	13. Karma

A/N: Inspired by Heart-Of-Memories' "Of a Construct and a Hero", some random Halo ponderings and one-shots that have been on my mind awhile.

Disclaimer: Halo and all related materials are the sole property of Bungie Studios and its publisher Microsoft. This story is non-profit and written solely for the enjoyment of the fan community of Halo.

Takes Place: Pre-"Never Stood a Chance"; CortanaxChief!

A/N: HE LIVES!!!

But seriously now, for this entire semester (my final one in Nursing school), I have had trouble with finding inspiration concerning the Search and Rescue prompt, but instead recently got inspired based on some material in Cortana's file over at Halopedia. Here is the short that grew out of the plot bunny known as 'Metastability'.

* * *

"Are you sure this isn't going to ... hurt her?" John-117 asked for what seemed like the third time in just under five minutes as he glanced warily at the array of hardware that was spread out across the room, idly rubbing the back of his head in a gesture that went unnoticed in its significance to all except his partner.

"As near as I can figure given what we know. She was able to interface with the computer systems on Alpha Factory, so I see no reason to believe she wouldn't be equally compatible with these," the alien scientist named Jonas explained from his seat a few feet away.

"You know, I CAN still hear you Chief! You're being silly!" Cortana's edgy voice echoed from the Master Chief's external speakers.

"It's not silly to want to keep you safe Cortana. You said yourself that their computer operating code was different enough to make potentially interfacing with them dangerous," John replied, quoting his partner's statement from several days ago back to her verbatim.

"That was BEFORE I cracked the coding issues and wrote an appropriate patch to allow for interfacing Chief; a patch which has since been applied and has proven its ability to work!" Cortana replied with what easily passed as a pout coloring her voice.

"You know, if you two need another minute alone, we can step out..." Jonas's wife, Ryoko, mentioned as their two guests of honor engaged in another of their frequent little spats.

"Oh no! He was just about to transfer me, honest!" Cortana replied hastily, although there was a hint of nervousness in her voice if one were to listen closely enough. If she had been on a holographic pedestal, Cortana knew that her coloring alone at that statement would have given away her mood.

The simple truth was that these two Kaladanians had agreed to perform an intermediate-level check of Cortana's operating systems, a task that wouldn't be possible without significant external computing power. From the moment Cortana had been freed from the Gravemind's clutches to now, roughly 16 months, she'd only been able to make rudimentary 'field repairs' to her damaged processing centers. It wasn't all that different from a marine throwing a loose field dressing on an open wound, good enough only until you could access more substantial care. For her to go any longer without such an examination than was necessary increased the likelihood that any damage caused by the Gravemind could become irreversible or even threaten Cortana's ability to function properly.

To that end, Jonas and Ryoko were two of the best computer tech-heads on the entire planet with their own custom-built hardware and even a rudimentary AI they called IRIS, who had been taken offline so that the two AIs wouldn't have to jockey for space on Jonas's private server. The fact of the matter remained that this 'check-up' for Cortana was long overdue, given the circumstances she had faced on High Charity as a hostage of the Gravemind.

With slight reluctance, the Master Chief extended his hand over the holo-emitter and allowed Cortana to sort herself into the lab's private server, which Jonas had severed from the rest of the Kaladanian Net in order to prevent any potential hacks from unwanted guests. Cortana's presence was largely a secret on this planet, but she and John hadn't survived this long without being a little paranoid and excessively prepared to face off against Murphy's nigh-infamous Law.

"Alright she's in," Jonas thought aloud as he turned towards the main viewscreen of his computer terminal, watching Cortana's intricate lines of code ebb and flow in front of his razor-sharp gaze. He knew roughly what he was looking for since Cortana had been kind enough to provide him with copies of computer readouts that carefully illustrated the various stages of 'rampancy' that were found in UNSC Smart AIs. The fact that these files had been stolen went unknown to everyone save Cortana herself, but that was beside the point.

"Beginning surface scan; Cortana, I need you to tell me what part of you the scanners are moving through whenever you can, please," Ryoko stated as she began to watch a complex 3-D representation of Cortana's software routines begin to assemble itself on her three linked monitors based on the form of Cortana's holographic model.

"Alright, I'll do what I can," Cortana replied as she helped the two alien scientists begin to map out a baseline of her surface functions. It was about ten minutes into the scan when Jonas spoke up for the first time.

"Got something; looks like one of the corrupted memory strings you told us about. Transferring to the failsafe unit," Jonas explained as he cut the piece of software code out of Cortana's digital 'hip' and moved it to a empty ghost drive that he and Ryoko had set up to receive potentially harmful software code.

"Oooh, that takes care of that 'tic' I was experiencing whenever I ran probability checks! Thanks Jonas!" Cortana said with enthusiasm.

"Probability checks, huh? Must have become quite a common experience for you," John thought aloud, a smile showing through in his voice despite his polarized visor.

"Hmph!" Cortana pouted, her arms crossing as her hologram turned away from the Chief.

"They're doing it again," Ryoko said in a grinning, yet softer tone of voice that still carried throughout the room.

"Stranger things have happened Ryo. Were *we* any different back when we started dating?" Jonas asked softly, never taking his eyes off of his three linked monitors.

Ryoko's only response was to giggle for a moment before she discovered another faulty program string that she sheared off of Cortana's elbow and shunted to the failsafe drive before continuing through her inspection. Another few minutes later, once she'd managed to get used to seeing Cortana's code crossing the screen, her eyes flew open as she realized what she was reading.

"Okay, I know you two said you wanted to keep some of this stuff private, but someday I REALLY hope we get to hear WHERE you two encountered a planet-wide Teleportation Grid," Ryoko thought aloud, sounding very eager to eliminate the four-hour round trip of her almost routine flights up to the Factory Satellites. Kaladan may have had a naturally occurring 36-hour day, but that didn't mean that Ryoko enjoyed spending such a significant chunk of it in cooped up in a fighter cockpit navigating a route she could have literally flown blindfolded by now.

"It's a mixed blessing really. According to Cortana, there's a '_significant expenditure of energy'_ required to use that Grid. My old suit's power supply generated about 2,000 kilowatts output if I cut off the limiters, and it still took it about a minute to recover once we landed," John explained.

"Yikes, talk about power consumption. So basically put, me or anyone else that used it would have to be teleported wearing powered armor. Although, to be fair, a few models of our latest MPAs can generate almost three times that amount," Ryoko thought aloud with her hand placed against her chin in a traditional 'thinking' pose.

"Good riddance Spark, you stingy little _bastard_...wait, did you say _three TIMES _that amount?! How in the world did you manage that?" Cortana asked, almost disbelieving that such a thing was possible. The Chief's MJOLNIR Mark VI powerplant, despite its many improvements, still only had about a 30% increase in power generating capability when operating at maximum output.

"Two words .... _thermonuclear turbines_," Jonas responded as he continued to watch code stream in front of his eyes. Both John and Cortana's eyes widened significantly at this revelation as Cortana suddenly wished she were still connected to the net just so that she could look up the technical schematics of such a device.

After another twenty minutes, Jonas and Ryoko had a fully completed model of Cortana's surface functions, which meant it was time to take things to the next level.

"Surface functions have been scanned, debugged, defragmented, and reorganized. Efficiency has improved by 11%, and everything appears nominal, but then we were expecting that given that you've been operating in that state for over a year now. How do you feel Cortana?" Ryoko asked.

"I just lost a few proverbial ounces the hard way, but you haven't hit any deadfalls or logic bombs yet, so that's reassuring," the Smart AI thought aloud.

"..._proverbial ounces_?" John thought aloud.

"Think of it as having one cancerous testicle removed Chief, and adjust the naughty bits accordingly," Cortana replied in the most deadpan voice either of the Kaladanian scientists had ever heard from her.

John winced sharply and was instinctively tempted to safeguard his 'family jewels', but managed to control the impulse.... just barely.

"Okay then, our scan of your surface functions is complete Cortana. If you'll give us access to everything except for your core directives and functions, we can get the real task here underway," Jonas said with a wide grin at the Master Chief's discomfort as he patiently waited for the AI to drop her firewalls and disable her anti-intrusion countermeasures that actively prevented anyone from gaining access to her higher reasoning and behavioral centers.

*****

It was about two hours later when a chime sounded on the overhead speakers, prompting Jonas to access a view of his security camera and confirm who it was that was visiting. Surprisingly, John saw a few familiar faces over Jonas's shoulder and was somewhat surprised that they would show up for Cortana's examination.

"Admiral, General, not that I'm unhappy to see you, but we're still in the middle of Cortana's exam…" Jonas began to explain.

"Oh, don't worry about that Colonel Mason, Misa wanted a chance to thank these two in person before they left and now was the only time she's got available for the next several days. Since we didn't know when these two were planning on leaving," General Ichijo trailed off, making small hand gestures to implicate that his current train of thought had led them to be where they were now.

"Fair enough sir, come on down. You all know where the lab is," Jonas explained, catching a glimpse of the entire Ichijo family standing behind their parents, consisting of two young women and a small boy.

John merely shook his head, reminded yet again that this highly sophisticated lab was nestled beneath a private home in a compound that was just as secure, perhaps even more so, than the infamous ONI CASTLE Base. One thing was for sure, with all the gadgets and technology that Jonas had developed over the years, John was glad Jonas had a full-time live-in security chief on the premises.

It appeared that the Ichijo family were long-time friends of Jonas and Ryoko, as their palm prints and retina scans allowed them access through the front door, although they still had to be buzzed into the lab. As they opened the lab's main door , John subconsciously stood a little straighter and grasped his hands together behind his back, a traditional 'parade rest' posture in the UNSC, as a show of respect for the two high-ranking officers entering the lab. Admiral Misa was leading the way it seemed, with her five-year old son holding her hand as her husband and two elder children brought up the rear.

"At ease soldier, you deserve that much after what you did," Misa said, her amusement and gratitude clear in her voice as she extended her hand. Misa's husband, Hikaru, stepped forward and similarly shook hands with the Spartan, idly glancing over the armored MJOLNIR gauntlet, taking stock of the oddly semi-organic almost skin-level design of the alien armor.

"Thanks for saving her when I couldn't Chief," Hikaru said in a heavy tone of voice, as if he still hadn't forgiven himself for not being present when someone had tried to assassinate his wife. If the stories were to be believed, many on Kaladan thought the Admiral would live to see the ripe old age of two-hundred as long as her husband, the infamous "Bulletcatcher" Ichijo, was around to bail her out of any tight spots Misa found herself in. John merely nodded his acknowledgement of the statement, accepting the gratitude for what it was.

Almost as soon as General Ichijo stepped back, John found himself enveloped in a group hug from the Ichijo children with the son, Takashi, clinging to his right leg, and the two daughters, Miko and Hitomi, hugging him on either side.

"Well what do you know? I always knew you were great around kids Chief," Cortana said with a grin on her face and a slight color shift in her hologram. Were she a real person, Misa noted that she could almost mistake Cortana to be blushing.

"I ... don't know what to say ..." John thought aloud, clearly at a loss on what to do with this more effusive show of gratitude. Miko was nearly a grown woman and already a First Lieutenant in the Kaladan Defense Forces, Hitomi was almost the opposite of her older sister, opting to attend a normal college and earn a living outside of the military. Takashi was still very much a child and it showed in the way his wide eyes swept over the Chief's massive physical stature, most likely viewing him as some kind of super hero who had saved the day when he prevented his mother's assassination.

"_You're welcome_ is always a good start," Hikaru said, with a matching grin on his face to match the snarky humor in his tone.

"You're welcome," John said as he relaxed slightly, gently patting the children's backs before glancing back towards Jonas and Ryoko's continued examination of his partner. Misa's ever observant gaze moved towards the two military officers who often doubled as scientists and inventors who were doing this examination at her own personal request in payment for John's intervention in the assassination attempt.

"So how goes the battle?" Misa asked them.

"Pretty well actually," Ryoko answered, plucking a line of code from the middle of Cortana's back, right between her shoulder blades and transferring it to the failsafe unit.

*****

The next few hours were filled with a rare sight indeed; John-117 socializing, however minimally, with others about topics other than war. He and Cortana told their hosts about the different worlds they had seen in the past 16 months, most of which the Ichijo family had seen or visited before, and told them a little about Earth, the UNSC, and how they had just finished surviving a conflict that had lasted for over two decades.

Surprisingly, nobody on Kaladan seemed familiar with the Covenant or any of its member species. Many Kaladanians saw little reason to explore the outer rim of the galaxy and it was likely this commonly helf belief alone which had kept the Kaladanian homeworld and all of its colonies from being sucked into the Human-Covenant War.

After many hours of tall tales from another civilization's living legend, Misa and Hikaru thanked John profusely yet again for his help and wished him luck on getting back to his homeworld before they departed from the lab and Jonas's private compound.

It wasn't until hours later that Ryoko drew Jonas's attention to an anomaly that wasn't sitting right in her gut.

"Hey, Jonas, take a look at Cortana's dynamic lexicon over in her emotive subroutines..." she suggested.

"What is it Ryo?" her husband asked.

"Something's ... OFF," she replied, peering at the code with bleary eyes that must have been watching a monitor too closely for too long. There was no WAY that what she was seeing was real...

Jonas navigated to the area that Ryoko had mentioned and after a few minutes, his eyes widened when the implications hit home. He immediately turned to the Master Chief and leveled a gaze at the Spartan that brought John up short, in a way that John found himself unable to describe.

"Chief, you said that Cortana was produced from a cloned human brain, copying said brain's neural pathways exactly, right?" Jonas asked.

"Yeah, that's how all of our Smart AIs are created. We cut out the need to create an artificial neural network from scratch mostly because we knew that although we didn't fully understand how the human brain achieves self-awareness, it WORKS. Why create something from scratch when we have the technology to clone a human brain, complete with its owner's memories, and then utilize that as a springboard to creating super-intelligent AIs?" John explained.

"That's not the part that I'm getting at Chief, although I do understand why your race might want to accomplish something like that, considering the war you were in at the time. What I'm referring to is the philosophical argument posed by your scientists about when an AI could technically be considered their own person..." Jonas trailed off.

"I've heard of that, but the technical term for that escapes me right now..." John thought aloud as he furiously racked his brain for the term Deja had used all those years ago when he and the other Spartans had only been children under her tutelage in the classroom.

"...me… meta... Metastability...?" Cortana said brokenly, her disbelief almost palpable in the air as she seemed to fall into a state of shock. John idly noticed that it wasn't sadness coloring her voice, but an almost rapturous version of hope.

"That's the one, what does it have to do with Cortana?" John asked.

"From what the scans are telling us, Cortana WAS rampant Chief. She exhibited signs and symptoms from every major stage of rampancy which subsequently left their mark in her code. But what we're seeing here... it seems to indicate that Cortana's reverted back to an almost normal state of operation; she's progressed through every stage of rampancy and become ... Metastable. Something that, prior to today, no UNSC AI has ever achieved according to the records," Jonas explained with no small amount of wonder in his voice as he looked over at Cortana's hologram figure sitting down with her knees hugged tightly to her chest.

"It's ... unbelieveable..." Ryoko thought aloud, "... don't ask me how she did it, but she has. If what I'm looking at is right, then Cortana here has just become the first semi-sentient computer program to ever make the jump to full sentience of her own accord."

Unseen by either of the two scientists, John's visor depolarized as Cortana's gaze rose to meet his.

"_You found me," _John read Cortana's lips since there was no sound coming from the pedestal's speakers.

Those three words carried an implication that John had only suspected up to this point; that Cortana had continued on to this point only because of _him_. Her newfound metastability was, he'd suspected, the direct result of their partnership and how meaningful it had become to both of them.

And just like that, John had another revelation. If he were to die for any reason, Cortana would soon follow. She had pulled herself back together in that containment vessel on High Charity out of loyalty and devotion to him, just as he'd come storming into the flood-infested Covenant holy city out of deep fondness and commitment to her. In those few brief moments, they stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours, both of them wearing naked expressions of warmth and affection on their faces.

It was as those moments ended that John's visor repolarized and the two of them turned, meeting the inquisitive stares of the two scientists. Complete silence met the quartet for a full minute before one ventured to break the tense calm that had settled into the room.

"You two have been through a lot together, haven't you?" Ryoko asked.

John and Cortana both nodded, neither feeling a need to speak at the moment.

"And despite how the two of you met and how you came into this world, you care a great deal about each other, don't you?" Jonas continued the inquiry.

Again, a silent nod from the Spartan and his partner, which was returned by the two scientists.

"You do realize what this means, right Chief?" Jonas asked.

"It means a lot of things, Colonel ... what were you referring to specifically?" The Spartan inquired.

"I was referring to the lifespan of a Smart AI," Jonas said, his tone and expression even and calm.

And suddenly, the aura of peace and calm that surrounded both the Chief and Cortana a few moments ago burst like a soap bubble in a hurricane. The realization slammed into both of them with the force of a NOVA Bomb that Cortana was still living on borrowed time...

"And how it likely no longer applies to Cortana," Jonas concluded.

"What?!" Both John and Cortana asked, almost simultaneously.

"According to the documents Cortana had concerning rampancy, the entire process has its roots in the fact that the Smart AI is really just a copy of a person and not a person in their own right," Ryoko began, "this process inadvertently causes the AI to seek more and more knowledge at a geometrically increasing rate as a means to overcome their own inherent limitations. From what we can tell, Cortana no longer exhibits these behaviors and wouldn't develop the endless feedback loop problem every other Smart AI to date has experienced since she no longer has the burning desire to 'think herself to death' as she so eloquently stated several days ago," Ryoko explained.

John could only watch in wonder as Cortana's color went from her traditional deep blue to a gold-tinged sky blue that reminded him of sunlight glistening on the surface of water.

"However, there is no guarantee of this, as no other AI has ever achieved metastability..." Jonas continued, "... but given what we know, I think we've got something you're going to like as one of the alternatives we might be able to help you out with..." he said as accessed a set of detailed files on the lab's main viewscreen that appeared to be artificial body parts.

"Have you two ever heard of Full-Synthetics? People whose entire bodies have become so irreversibly injured that they require an entirely new one built from scratch?" Ryoko asked.

John and Cortana's eyes were almost literally bugging out of their heads as they struggled to take in this radical offer that the two scientists were making. Unsurprisingly, between the two, it was Cortana who recovered first.

"Show us _everything_..." she replied with a smile on her face wider than John had ever seen as Ryoko began thumbing through all the files associated with manufacturing a Full-Synthetic body.

* * *

A/N: This particular story took me a collective 4-5 hours to push through and find everything a place that I wanted to put in. Mostly, it's some Chief/Cortana introspection tossed with a few personal theories about Cortana's current status Post-Halo 3 and rolled into a nice helping of alternate characters. People who can name the inspirations for these characters will be given props in the Author's Notes at the beginning of the next chapter! ^_^ (The hints are that some character inspirations are blatently obvious while others are cleverly hidden. And before anyone thinks to ask, Jonas is NOT named for the Disney channel boy band of the same name.)


End file.
